


To Play with Fire

by LizaGreen



Series: Assassin Zuko One Shots [8]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Airi - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And I mean we have left cannon far behind, Assassin!Zuko, Big Brother Zuko (Avatar), But he is also a Chief, But sometimes he is terrible at it, Fire Nation Politics (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Infrequent Updates, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Politics, Southern Waterbenders, Yu Yan Archers, Yumi - Freeform, Zuko (Avatar) whump, Zuko's Squad, kaito - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizaGreen/pseuds/LizaGreen
Summary: The war has ended. Ozai has been defeated. All that is left is to crown Iroh Fire Lord. However, it seems the Fire Sages have already crowned a new leader, one far more sinister than Sokka had first thought.All hail Fire Lord Zuko, trained assassin and winner of the political coup to take control of the Fire Nation.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Fire Nation Citizen(s) & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Assassin Zuko One Shots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1072755
Comments: 248
Kudos: 1134





	1. Sokka

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Towards the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252807) by [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance). 



Sokka stared over Appa’s saddle at the Caldera below and tried not to panic. Panicking was bad. If he panicked, Katara would start throwing water, Aang would get all concerned and Toph, who was clinging to the side of the saddle and pretending to _not_ be scared herself, might start to let people know. He took a deep breath and glanced sideways to where Iroh was sat, face grave and no doubt wondering just what they were flying into. 

It had been several months since they had defeated Ozai. It had been a mess really- Fire Nation troops were still all over the Earth Kingdom, the Earth King was still missing and thousands were displaced from the flames that Ozai had decided to start. Aang had tried to help put them out, but it was a long process. 

Then the Fire Nation troops started _moving_. They thought, at first, this was the second wave of attack. Then they noticed that they were moving the other way. So, not attacking. Going home. That was fine, but who had sent the order? They had at first been too busy to find out. Slowly though, Iroh’s old man network had trickled in news of just what had occurred in the Fire Nation. 

Zuko was Fire Lord. Furious, trigger-happy, let’s-start-fires-for-Daddy Zuko was in charge. The guy who had demanded his honour was the same guy now running the show. It gave him nightmares just thinking about it, while Iroh had gone all quiet like he usually did when someone brought up his nephew.

_Deep breaths_ he reminded himself. He was going to need them. 

Aang was vibrating in place at Appa’s head. Katara was gripping his arm tightly, Sokka could tell. They were all afraid as they started their descent into the capital of the Fire Nation. Sokka hadn’t thought he would see this place again. He had been a fool to think so, most likely they would have needed to return to place Iroh on the throne, but the chaos caused by Ozai’s defeat had just... delayed them. 

And now they were paying for it. 

The courtyard was suspiciously quiet when they finally landed. The soldiers guarding the palace eyed them warily, a woman scurrying off somewhere within the palace. No one moved, Sokka wasn’t even sure he was even _breathing._ But this needed to be done and no one else had been willing to come forward. No one else wanted to speak with the last remaining member of the Fire Nation Royal Family tied to Ozai. 

A figure stepped out of the Palace. It wasn’t Zuko. It was a woman, dressed in red and black robes, hair tied in a neat half top-knot and an alarming similarity to Azula. Sokka heard Iroh take in a sharp breath. 

“Lady Airi,” he greeted the woman politely the moment they dismounted Appa. He gave her a respectful nod. “I am here to see my nephew.” 

“Fire Lord Zuko is unfortunately busy at this moment,” the woman- girl, Sokka realised suddenly- informed them primly. “You are welcome to wait in the gardens until he is free. He has informed the servants to serve Ginseng.” Iroh flinched, as if given a blow. Sokka felt angry. How dare Zuko use the man’s favourite tea as a weapon against him? If the fact that he had chased them around the world wasn’t a tip towards him being a bad guy, this most definitely had. 

“We would be honoured to accept such an invitation from the Fire Lord.” Lady Airi narrowed her eyes at Iroh, unhappy with that answer. Sokka stared defiantly back at her. She couldn’t hold a candle to how utterly terrifying Azula was. 

“This way.” She turned, not waiting to see if they would follow. Sokka wanted to protest, but they couldn’t afford to make too many waves. They were surrounded, in the middle of enemy territory without any allies, that they knew of, but Iroh wasn’t being given free reign either. 

They were led through long dark hallways, always red and gold. One looming corridor held a small army of portraits, all previous Fire Lords. Ozai was oddly missing. No one in the corridors seemed to find this strange, however, tiptoeing past them with wary or even alarmed looks. The servants seemed particularly scared of Iroh, some even running off. One scowled, another looked ready to lunge at the man, held back by a scared woman who had dropped what appeared to be an armful of laundry just to keep him from doing something stupid. Iroh took this all in with a blank look. 

Eventually they reappeared in the sunlight. Sokka blinked as he took in the garden, surrounded on all sides by shaded colonnades where one could walk if they so wished. In the centre was an aged willow, draping over a small pond filled with turtleducks, quacking quietly to themselves. Set by the side of this pond was a small tea service, steaming in the peaceful air without a care in the world. 

No one else was here. 

“Fire Lord Zuko will meet with you shortly,” Lady Airi snapped. “Take the time to refresh yourselves. The fruit cakes are delightful, prepared specially by our Chef.” With that, she turned and disappeared back into the Palace, leaving them alone. 

“Well, she was a ball of sunshine,” Sokka commented lightly, trying to alleviate the tension. “Guess we’re not touching the food.” Iroh shook his head. 

“Eat what you will. If Zuko wished to poison us, he wouldn’t make it so obvious,” Iroh said, wandering towards the tea. Because of _course_ he would and wouldn’t think Prince I-do-what-Daddy-tells-me wouldn’t have done something to it. 

“Nope, I don’t trust that,” Sokka stated, leaping forwards and placing a hand over the teapot before the old man could. “And even if Zuko didn’t, I don’t trust the servants not to have done so in his place.” He gave the man a pointed look. Iroh stared back mournfully, eyes set on the teapot. Sokka knew the man had seen the looks they were given. Obviously, tea trumped anything else. 

“It’s weirdly... peaceful here,” Aang murmured, wandering towards the fluffy killing-machines in the pond. Sokka didn’t trust the birds not to attack. 

“This was Lady Ursa’s favourite spot,” Iroh said, coming to join him. “She would spend much of her free time sat here, watching the hatchlings.” 

“This was your wife’s favourite spot?” Katara asked quietly. Iroh spoke very rarely of his family, usually mentioning Zuko and, on occasion, his son Lu Ten. Iroh stiffened before letting out a small chuckle. 

“Oh, no, Princess Ursa was not my wife. Merely my sister-in-law.” Sokka stared. This was _Ozai’s_ _wife’s_ favourite spot? No wonder Zuko had set them up out here. Just another tactic to show that he had the power here, just another symbol of whose son he really was. Katara scowled. 

“Oh,” was all she said. Toph turned to the side. 

“Heads up guys,” she said. “He doesn’t seem too pleased.” The scowl on Zuko’s face only doubled the impression when he appeared. Dressed in the heavy robes of the Fire Lord, hair pulled up into a formal top-knot and topped with the Flame headpiece that denoted his position. His fists were clenched at his sides, eyeing them all warily. Behind him followed the girl who led them in. He waved her away as he stepped into the garden. 

She remained stood at the door, eyes trailing up towards the roof. Sokka followed her eye-line to find arrows trained on them from all sides. 

A moment later the shadows melted away. 

“General Iroh,” Zuko said stiffly, folding his arms behind his back. Toph was frowning, head cocked to one side. “Avatar Aang, Masters Katara and Toph. Warrior Sokka.” He nodded his head to each of them in turn, formal and polite, as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if they had never met. Katara had her hand over her water skin, Aang gripping his staff tightly. “It is a pleasure to see you.” Sokka had never heard someone sound so unenthusiastic about it before. 

“Nephew,” Iroh started, stopping at the flinch. Sokka noted the bags under the new Fire Lord’s eyes and wondered, for some strange reason, why Zuko of all people would not be sleeping. Surely, they should be the ones having sleepless nights? 

“I see you have not touched the tea.” It was irritating how disappointed the other boy sounded. He marched over to the tea service, breathing heat back into the cooling tea before pouring himself a cup. Sokka watched closely as the boy took a sip, nodded, and poured another. He held it out, almost as a peace offering, to Iroh. “It is not poisoned. I had Kaito watch as they brewed it.” Iroh accepted the cup, taking a sip himself. He relaxed minutely. 

“Thank you, nephew. The tea is delicious,” he said. Sokka could tell he was itching to draw the other boy into a hug. He wondered if he refrained due to the swords visibly attached to his back. 

It was only then that he noticed that Zuko’s robes were subtly different to those he had seen in the previous Fire Lords depicted. They were shorter, reaching his knees rather than the floor, revealing practical military boots. Enabling further mobility. There was no cloak to make-up for this, and the shoulder spikes were smaller, more akin to a nobleman’s than the Fire Lord’s if Piandao’s teachings were right. _He has adjusted to move as quickly and precisely as possible. What does that mean for this meeting? What does that mean for his reign?_ He glanced back to the shadows on the roof. Only one was visible. She gave him a jaunty wave. 

Sokka resisted the urge to wave back. 

By this time, Zuko had poured them all a cup of ginseng. Sokka sniffed his suspiciously, not certain whether or not the Fire Lord would have poisoned it himself, but since everyone else was drinking, he supposed it was safe enough. Iroh was watching his nephew closely, eyebrows drawn together. 

“You have not been sleeping, nephew,” Iroh said gently. “You are pushing yourself too hard.” 

“Telling Generals of the Fire Nation that we won the war a hundred years ago is something of a task,” Zuko said dryly. “It helps that Captain Yumi agrees.” The table stiffened around them. 

“What?” Sokka squeaked eventually, once he was able to form _words_ again. Zuko raised that single eyebrow, the other a permanent squint. 

“The war was started, in Fire Lord Sozin’s own words, to capture lost territory from the Fire Nation by the Earth Kingdom under Earth King Chin. We recaptured those colonies. Everything else was madness and expansionism,” Zuko explained calmly. “The Fire Nation is willing to offer recompense to the Avatar for the murder of his past life and that of his people. We can offer names and places to descendants of the Zephyrs, should they wish to participate in the rebuilding of the Temples, however I would remind him that there are those who have no wish to do so.” Zuko’s face was terrifyingly blank. “I will fight to defend those who have no desire to leave all earthly attachments behind.” 

“But then they wouldn’t be airbenders,” Aang argued, losing the point that _Zuko_ knew where to find them in the first place. 

“And what of the damage done to the Water Tribes? The Earth Kingdom?” Katara spat. “Or are we not _damaged_ enough for you.” Zuko carefully placed his cup down. 

“The Fire Nation has done great wrong in the word, it is true, but I will not beggar my people further by giving in to the, quite frankly, absurd demands of the other Nations,” Zuko said, anger touching his words now. “I have received demands already from Chief Arnook, who would have the heads of all involved in the Siege of the North without taking into account the thousands of lives lost in Zhao's folly and the Ocean’s wrath aided by the Avatar, while the Earth King’s Generals demand our full harvest crop to feed their own people. Would you have me starve my people and execute half my army just so you can feel better about yourselves?” Sokka could see the _yes_ on Katara’s tongue and elbowed her. _Hard._

“We have come to negotiate,” he said before his sister could ruin this further. “Recompense should be given.” Zuko nodded stiffly. 

“The war is over. The prisons have been emptied of political prisoners: you may take them home with you in the morning. We have provided transport.” Sokka opened his mouth to argue but Zuko spoke over him. “I have also given the once Southern waterbender prisoners and their families the choice to return with you. Many have declined and decided to become citizens of the Fire Nation but those that agreed are packed and ready to leave as well. A stipend has been set up for the Earth Kingdom from army ration reserves to aid the poorest areas of the Earth Kingdom most afflicted by the war, but the Fire Nation can offer no further help than that. With the autumn storms approaching, we are already working to salvage the poor harvest we have this year, on top of those we have had for the past five.” Iroh flinched. 

“Ozai did not set aside funds to contend with harvests?” 

“Fire Lord Ozai cared for funds towards the war. Conscription into the army has already been abolished and those trainees conscripted below the age of 25 have been released back as citizens,” Zuko said primly. “Sixteen year olds ought never to have seen battlefields.” Sokka dropped his teacup as Aang paled. 

“Sixteen…?” he whispered. Katara laid a calming hand on his arm. 

“You’re sixteen,” Toph said bluntly. She had been quiet until this point, observing. “I hear you were out there at thirteen, as was your sister.” 

“Fire Lord Ozai was a tyrant and cared nought for his people or his family. Are you surprised?” Sokka stared into the face of the enemy, seeing not the hardened soldier or ferocious Prince for once, but a tired and bitter sixteen-year-old boy, forced to grow up too fast. He saw a reflection of himself in the tired droop of his shoulders, in the bags under his eyes and the alert way he watched the garden. It occurred to Sokka, that the swords and dress may not have been for their benefit after all. 

“I see.” Toph, at twelve, sounded astoundingly blank as she said the words. Her hands had curled into fists. “You can call off the archers on the roof, you know. I wouldn’t let Sweetness start the war all over again.” Zuko gave her a scrutinising look. 

He held a hand in the air, making a signal of some kind. The shadows melted away except for the woman who dropped into the courtyard. 

“You cannot send me away like Airi,” she said before Zuko could speak. Sokka noted that her face was tattooed, her sleeves hiding yet more weapons than the obvious bow. Zuko ignored her. 

“This is Captain Yumi,” he said, as if she had not spoken at all, as if she had merely walked into the courtyard at his request. “She has been at the forefront of discovering the Zephyrs.” 

“What’s a Zephyr?” Sokka asked carefully. “You mentioned them before.” A mention that Aang _hadn’t_ made in the past. 

“Descendants of those born within the Temples without being benders,” Captain Yumi said flatly. “My great-grandmother was born to the nuns of the Western Air Temple.” 

“So, you are a Zephyr?” Sokka clarified. Iroh looked rather surprised. _Did he not know? But how, if Zuko did?_

_“_ Yes,” Yumi said simply. 

“Zuko?” Iroh said faintly. Zuko didn’t look at his Uncle. 

“Grandfather called her to the Palace with Kaito and Airi,” he said, pouring himself another cup. At this point, if it had been poisoned, the Fire Lord had drunk half the pot. It was either slow-acting, or Zuko was made of sterner stuff than he thought. “He had... plans for us. Plans which died with Lu Ten.” Iroh drew in a sharp breath. 

Aang was frowning at Yumi. 

“If you are a Zephyr, you should know that we all need to band together,” he started. Yumi’s eyes narrowed. 

“My grandmother was born to the nuns,” she said stiffly, suddenly angry and affronted, “but my parents were born of the Wangdue. Princess Azula’s friend, Ty Lee, was born to the Dorje and even the swordmaster, Piandao, is descended from the wandering nomads of the Rabten.” Aang had turned pale as the Captain listed what was, presumably, Air Nation tribes. Clans? Nomads? Groups which were once a part of his culture before they settled to Temples? 

“No,” Aang said breathlessly, stubbornly. “No, they couldn’t. The clans settled in the Temples, Monk Sangye had them put down their bows and swords, you _shouldn’t_ have them-” 

“Enough!” Zuko’s teacup shattered as he slammed it on the table. “I will not hear you disrespect peoples under my care.” There was an underlying threat, steam rising from his hands. “The Air Clans, those that survived Sangye’s decree, asked the Fire Lord of the time to settle within his lands. We have sheltered them ever since.” His gaze was icy, colder even than the frozen tundras back home. 

Sokka shivered. 

“So, um, those prisoners,” Sokka said, switching back to safer topics before Aang could open his mouth or his sister could restart the war. It was clear that Iroh would never see the throne with these people within the Palace. And if Zuko were willing to negotiate reparations of a kind, well, he had learnt to haggle over the last year of travel. And Toph was a merchant’s daughter with some mean skills of her own- between them, they ought to be able to get some more out of the pampered Fire Lord. “Any names?” 

“The Chief of the Southern Water Tribes has his own rooms within the Palace, as does his second. They have been waiting for your arrival. The Kyoshi Warriors left for their island three days ago, the Dorje joining them for a while.” Sokka winced at the pointed tone to that. _Suki is safe, at least,_ he thought to himself. He wished he had seen her before she left. But Dad was here, alone with Bato. “There were only four waterbenders who wished to return home, and only after speaking with the current Chief. Many saw Hama’s actions as shameful to the Tribes and that she had dishonoured them all.” 

Katara jumped to her feet. 

“And what would you know of what happened to Hama?” she spat, too incensed now to listen to more. Zuko didn’t move, but Yumi tensed. Sokka could just _see_ disaster approaching. 

“I saw the prisons,” Zuko said, looking his sister in the eye without flinching. Sokka got the feeling that after Azula, there wasn’t much that could rattle the Fire Lord. “I know their conditions were dreadful. The Southern Raiders have been suitably punished, those of which who were responsible. Their regiment has been disbanded and assimilated into others for those too young to have participated.” 

“And the ones who did?” Katara hissed. “Did you treat them the same?” 

“I am not a tyrant, nor will I stoop to their level,” Zuko growled, hands steaming again. “What they did was barbaric and brutal, I will not lie. I have done my best to make accommodations for those who survived. To answer your question, no, I didn’t truss up the ones who were involved without food or water in cages. They were, however, incarcerated into Boiling Rock for life. They will have no parole. They will not have the privilege to see their family should they come to visit. Is that enough for you, or shall I send you their heads as well for you to dance upon in bloody vengeance?” 

Katara moved to lash out physically. She flinched back with a cry as she was suddenly surrounded by a very _pointy_ hurricane. 

“Did I miss a party?” came a voice from the other side of the courtyard. Sokka, who had jumped to his feet in an attempt to do _something_ , stared at the young man leaning against a column in the shady colonnade. He bit into an apple, stance far too relaxed to be natural. Blue eyes flecked with hazel pinned him under their gaze. 

“No,” Zuko said, standing himself. “I believe we have discussed enough. I will have you brought to the Chief. A boat is waiting within the harbour stocked for your journey home. Should you stay longer than the night, I will be forced to see this act of aggression as an invitation to return to open warfare.” He locked gaze with his Uncle. “General Iroh, for your crimes against the Fire Nation, I am willing to overlook but I must strip you of your previous title of ‘Prince’. A man who fights against his Nation cannot stand in line for the throne.” 

It should not have sounded as if it were tearing _Zuko_ apart to say the words. Iroh nodded, bowing in full protestation to his nephew. 

“I understand, Fire Lord Zuko,” he said gently. “I thank you for your generosity.” 

Zuko nodded and fled the garden. 

The moment he was gone, the hurricane dropped, shurikuns returning to their places hidden within Yumi’s sleeves. Katara glared at her, water pulled from her waterskin. The boy leaning against the column made an all too familiar move, yanking it away from her and freezing it to the floor. 

Sokka wished he could wipe away the deep hurt and shock from his sister’s face. 

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the boy said, stepping into the garden proper and giving them a bow. “Sergeant Kaito of the Foggy Swamp and heir to the Head of the Tribe.” He flashed them a swaggering grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “Faithful guard to the new Fire Lord. Please don’t try that again.” 

“You- you- you're a traitor to your own people!” Katara shrieked, barely able to get the words out. Iroh’s gaze turned mournful as Kaito’s smile grew sharp. 

“No, that would be Hue, Due and Tho,” he said back calmly. “My grandmother was quite clear when stating we would not participate in your little invasion.” Sokka remembered the three Foggy Swamp tribesmen, how few of their comrades came with them despite discussing that theirs was not the only tribe within the Swamp. Remembered the nervous glances some of them shared and how easily they had surrendered after the Invasion. 

Everything made a sickening amount of sense, all of a sudden. 

“You weren’t trained to be a guard,” Sokka said flatly, dread an all consuming sea in his stomach. The sharp grin didn’t diminish. “What’s Lady Airi trained in?” Because an airbender with a bow who fought for the Yu Yan, a Prince who wielded dual dao and the heir to the Foggy Swamp and clearly a master waterbender were _not_ first choices for sitting on the throne. And she had most certainly been irritated to have been dismissed by Zuko. 

“This and that,” Kaito said, returning to slouching against the column, rolling a ball of water around his knuckles. “Her father did let us know you went to visit them on Azuma.” Iroh stiffened, face horrified. 

“Chiyoko married a Sun Warrior?” He barely breathed the words. Kaito cocked his head. 

“Technically, _her_ father was from Azuma. She simply returned there when Fire Lord Azulon insisted Lady Ursa marry your brother.” The ball of water froze into ice, dropping into a hand waiting for it. “Apparently it caused quite the stir.” Sokka blinked. 

“She’s... Zuko’s cousin?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around that. Zuko was related, somehow, to so many important people it seemed almost hilarious. Kaito shrugged. 

“I hear Azulon had been angling for an in with the Sun Warriors for years. He was incredibly excited that Zuko was invited there in return for looking out for Airi.” The ice warped into something resembling a dragon. “I think he liked the idea of dragons returning to the Royal Family.” 

“There are no more dragons left,” Iroh said quietly. Kaito hummed as Yumi turned, rather abruptly and left. 

“No. There’s three.” 


	2. Zuko

Airi was waiting in his office, reading through another missive from the Earth Kingdom when he returned, breathing carefully to calm his racing heart. For a moment, he had come close to being shredded into icy shards. For a moment, someone had come the closest yet to killing him. 

A weight dropped onto his shoulders, feelers trailing across his cheek as Druk trilled quietly in his ear in an attempt at reassurance. Zuko pulled him into his arms and close, relishing in the little dragon’s warmth. 

Airi made no comment as he hid his tears. 

“This General Fong is asking for more rations again,” she said after a while, finger tapping idly on the wood of his desk. Zuko cleared his throat and wiped his face, walking over to taking the proffered paper. She was clearly still annoyed he had dismissed her but, unlike Azula, wasn’t cruel enough to berate him for making yet more stupid decisions. 

“General Fong has committed war crimes of his own. If he cannot provide for his people, rumours of those crimes might make their way to the Earth King,” he said, throwing the paper to the side. “I’m more worried about what the Water Tribe Chief is going to try now that his children are here.” 

“He would be a fool to try anything. That idiot from the North didn’t even get the right room.” Zuko rolled his eyes at the reminder of Hahn. 

“He can go back with them,” Zuko muttered, settling himself down behind his desk next to her. Druk curled up in his lap, a small heater. He and Airi often sat together like this- she had the political intellect having to survive Court for three years alone during his banishment, and he had the practical knowledge of what and how much needed to go where. She, however, often went to bed, whereas Zuko more often than not woke startled from sleep at this desk. 

After the third time it happened, a cot had mysteriously appeared in the corner. Airi swore she had nothing to do with it, smirking. Kaito burst into laughter at Zuko’s confusion and he decided to let it go. He squad was weird sometimes. 

“Did you let General Iroh know that General Shen has invited him to dinner this evening? He is happy for him to bring the Avatar and company.” Zuko winced. 

“I...” 

“Forgot, yes I thought you did,” she said, already writing on a piece of paper, standing. “I’ll have the invitation sent now, don’t worry.” She paused, gaze soft as she glanced back at him. “You didn’t have to face him alone.” 

“No,” Zuko agreed, tired, just as he had been for the past three months. For the past three _years. “_ But I had to.” For his own sanity. Besides, it would be considered rude to strip Iroh of his titles by letter. At least he hadn’t been angry about it. 

The truth was, Iroh’s crimes ran deeper than just joining the Avatar. Being a White Lotus member was one thing, being the Grand Master another. He had spent five years pulling the strings from both sides of the war, strung Zuko along on a merry goose chase for three years while using his boat to send out messages to his allies and ultimately betrayed Zuko when he left with the Avatar the day Ba Sing Se fell. 

Zuko hadn’t actually joined Azula, had been torn between his Uncle and the poisoned promise of home. Just as his indecision reached its height, however, Iroh had already joined the fray. On the Avatar’s side. Zuko, hurt and betrayed, had lashed out and earned a free ticket home when Azula thought she had killed the Avatar. Sickened, Zuko had spent most of the journey hidden in his cabin. 

Reaching the Palace again, he had found home a desperately depressing place. Any people that might have spoken out before his banishment, were frightened to silence now. The Court was a nest of viper-eels and the servants petrified for their lives. The smell of charred flesh was not uncommon. Finding Airi and Kaito had been a blessing among all of that, and he immediately took his cousin up on the opportunity to leave the capital. 

Azuma had been just the breath of fresh air he needed to put his mind in order. Finding Druk had given him the resolve he had been lacking for so long. 

“He shouldn’t be allowed to stay in the Palace,” Airi said, voice sharp. “Even banishment would be a sentence too good for what he did.” 

“That isn’t your decision to make,” Zuko said equally sharply. “I told you and the servants and Kaito. General Iroh’s crimes may have been traitorous but he did what he thought was right. If I can forgive him for that, I expect the same of you.” 

“But you haven’t,” she said, turning in a swirl of angry red robes. “Not really. I saw your face. I heard what he said. He doesn’t even _know_ half of the hurt he did to you.” She was visibly shaking. “And yet you let him go free, let those children talk over you as if you were dirt on the bottom of your shoe! As if you have no worth!” Zuko swallowed. 

“Airi, half the Generals and councillors all still want General Iroh on the throne,” he said quietly. “If I banished him, we would be threatened with Civil War. Even a traitorous Fire Lord is better than one who could assassinate them in their sleep.” It made him feel hollow at the way his own Council looked at him, tinged with fear after discovering abilities known only to a few. Some had called for Iroh to be crowned there and then, especially after he had been forced to drug Azula into submission, her mind gone at the loss of their Father. 

Sometimes, he wished he could slit Ozai’s throat himself, after seeing what he had done to his baby sister. 

The sister that raged within a room in the Palace while awake was not the same baby sister he had left behind three years ago. He had asked Airi to look out for her and their cousin had done her best, but Ozai hated any reminders of his detested wife and was leery of her relatives. Airi had barely been able to keep herself alive, let alone protect Azula from the full brunt of their Father’s attention, both positive and negative. Azula had always been smug, intelligent, confident and self-assured. The woman he had joined had worn these as a thin veneer over a sense of self-doubt and questioning her worth towards herself and their Father. Ozai was welcome to rot in whatever hole the Earth Kingdom had thrown him in. 

“I understand,” Airi replied, face hidden behind a curtain of hair. “I just wish it didn’t have to be so.” 

“Well, that is why I have you, Kaito and Yumi,” Zuko attempted to joke. She offered him a small smile, sweeping out of the room. 

Druk decided that Zuko had done enough work today, even though the amount of work he did was _never_ enough. The dragon draped himself over the paper on the desk, belly up and golden eyes beseeching him for scraps. The feeler brushed his hand, a sense of transferred comfort and devoted love. 

In the face of that, Zuko didn’t have the heart to continue work and stood up himself. 

“I suppose now is as good a time as any to visit Azula,” he murmured, Druk leaping to climb his arm and wrap around his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek. Zuko rubbed the top of his head, going to pick up swords that he realised he had forgotten to even take off. _Perhaps Airi was right, and this visit from Uncle has had a greater impact on me than I thought_ , Zuko thought guiltily, striding down the hallway. 

It was strange, the way that Zuko’s councillors were terrified of him, but the servants were not. They offered smiles, Hiroto the guard removing his face-plate to offer the Fire Lord an encouraging smile as he arrived at Azula’s room. No longer did the servants cower in the shadows, but swept through the Palace with far more efficiency than they ever had in Zuko’s memory. Kaito spent many hours talking with the cook, probably to filch treats, Yumi garnered respect from the guards simply being a part of the Yu Yan and Airi was one of the very few courtiers who had _not_ actively burned any of them. Or even accidentally. 

“Good Afternoon, Your Majesty,” Hiroto greeted him. He had a weathered face, sun burnt at the slits of the skull mask, so he had permanent tan lines down his lips. He liked to joke that his children were the bravest children in the Fire Nation with a Father who looked like a skeleton all the time. 

Zuko had smiled and returned that he was an incredibly jolly skeleton then. 

“Good Afternoon, Hiroto,” Zuko replied. “Do you know how she is today?” 

“All’s been quiet so far, Your Majesty.” His eyes were soft, understanding unlike so many others the care that Zuko had for his sister. He wouldn’t let anyone take that from him. 

“Thank you,” he said with some relief. Azula’s good days seemed to be few and far between, but he could do with some good news today. He could do with something familiar that wasn’t trying to kill him. 

Hiroto ushered him through and Zuko entered a room in tatters. In her quiet moments, Azula tended to sit either in bed or at the window, staring listlessly at nothing for hours. In her more violent moments, she attacked anything and anyone within the room, including herself. The bed curtains had been turned to ash, the furniture singed and survived only because it had been coated in fire retardant varnish for small firebending children, ensuring it couldn’t be set afire. She had done her best though, and some had been smashed to pieces in her frustration that it wouldn’t catch instead. One memorable moment she had used the pieces to attack her own skin, and Zuko had had to hold her down as the physician forced a sedative down her throat to prevent her from causing further harm. All fragments were now removed the moment they were discovered. 

Azula was at the window today, tapping at the glass, a bored expression upon her face. She barely reacted to his entrance to her room. 

“I see the Fire Lord has deigned to visit me,” she stated a moment after the door closed. Zuko sat himself next to her at the window. 

“I have been busy,” Zuko said, wishing he could visit more often. Most weeks he could only see her once or twice. With news that the Avatar was coming, he hadn’t seen her for nearly two, instead stuck listening to distant screams in the Palace and having to hear the fallout from Airi or Kaito and the doctor, chained to his desk buried under a mountain of paperwork and letters exchanged with the Earth King and Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. A hawk was quite capable of making at least one trip to the North and back in the time it took the bison to arrive from the other side of the Earth Kingdom and even then, the hawks were faster than Sky Bison. 

There had been a reason, after all, why Zuko could keep up with the Avatar in a substandard ancient boat. 

“I see.” Azula was quiet a while. “I saw the bison land earlier.” This was said off hand, almost like she was commenting on the weather. Zuko saw it for the tentative dig for information it was. 

“Uncle has returned to the Fire Nation,” Zuko said, drawing a knee up to rest his chin upon. Druk jumped to Azula’s shoulders to groom her hair. Unlike the old Azula, both baby sister and later, she didn’t shriek about her obsessively neat hair. Zuko wasn’t sure she had had it brushed in a couple of days. “He brought the Avatar and band with him.” 

“To crown His Tea Loving Kookiness.” She didn’t even need to ask. Zuko swallowed heavily, nodding. 

“The Water Tribe boy seems to have caught on that that wasn’t going to happen.” Azula seemed to consider that. 

“I think I prefer you over the traitor,” she said. Zuko supposed it was meant to be a compliment, but it wasn’t an incredibly high bar. Azula had never liked Uncle anyway: he had never gotten her the way Zuko did. 

Zuko didn’t think their parents had really gotten either of them, not even Mother. 

“Thank you,” he said anyway. This quiet was downright peaceful compared to the meeting with Uncle. “The waterbender tried to kill me.” Azula almost smirked. 

“Of course,” she said, tapping out a pattern almost absently. “We are ashmakers, after all.” Zuko winced, seeing the word splattered across one wall, how Azula saw herself. He had tried to order the servants to wash it off, to stop her from scrawling such derogatory terms about herself across her walls, but she had just done it again and again and again. Just because today was a quiet, good day, didn’t mean things were right either. 

“She has been living with Uncle for over a month and still views the Fire Nation as evil. She worked with General Jeong Jeong, her brother trained under Piandao and reports state that she impersonated a spirit to save a town. That argument is hypocritical of her.” Azula snorted, an undignified thing that he hadn’t heard since they were about four and Ozai paid attention to neither of them. 

“She’s a bleeding heart idiot who couldn’t put those two things together.” It was an uncharitable statement- Zuko knew Katara wasn’t stupid. He also knew she hated the Fire Nation, had heard from Hakoda how they had killed her Mother and she blamed the entire nation, aside from these few small peoples, for her death. 

Unfortunately, her anger was entirely misplaced and now had nowhere to go. She would have to live with the fact that others had already dealt justice for the woman’s unlawful and brutal death. Zuko would leave it to her father to tell her that though: he had had enough ice aimed at him for one day. 

“They’ll be gone in the morning,” Zuko said, leaning his head against the windowpane. “But Uncle might decide he wants to stay.” It was the one thing he was most terrified of: even with his title stripped, Iroh was a powerful force within the Fire Nation, known and tested by most of the Council. If he sided with Zuko, he would cement Zuko’s power. If he didn’t, if he opposed Zuko on even the most minor thing... for some, it would be all the excuse they would need. 

“Banishment is still an option.” Zuko grimaced. 

“That would hardly stop him _writing_ to people in the Court,” Zuko pointed out. Azula gave a slow blink. 

“I see.” Suddenly, almost without any warning, she stood. Druk squealed as he lost his grip on her head, but Azula caught him and spilled him into Zuko’s lap. Then, she marched over to the door and flung it open wide. 

Hiroto blinked in some surprise at her, most likely having expected Zuko. 

“Y-Your Highness?” he stammered, taking in the whole of the woman in front of him. Wild, tangled hair, bed robe hanging loose on her shoulders, feet bare, even her nails chipped and cracked. 

“Servants,” Azula stated at him, as if he were an idiot. “I am in need of a hairdresser, manicurist and seamstress.” She paused as Hiroto continued to goggle at her. “Now,” she said pleasantly, fingers sparking. Hiroto bowed. 

“Of course, Your Highness. I shall have them called right away.” He caught Zuko’s gaze as Azula shut the door in his face. His own confusion was reflected in the man’s face. 

“Well, I can hardly see Uncle in my bedrobe,” Azula said airily as Zuko continued to stare, wandering over to her vanity. The mirror was fogged with ash, which Azula wiped off with the sleeve of her robe, picking up a hairbrush. She made a face at her reflection, making a shooing motion to Zuko. “Now, go, I won’t have you in here while I’m getting _dressed_.” 

A moment later, Zuko found himself outside her room, blinking, not quite sure what was happening. He hoped it was a good sign, but with Azula, who knew. 

Unfortunately, this now meant that he had nowhere to be. Azula had kicked him out, which meant his break from the work of being Fire Lord was up. _Time to return,_ he thought glumly. He took the route via the roofs rather than the corridors, nodding to Yumi’s troops as he passed them. They didn’t appear phased, nodding and smiling back, as if this were a common occurrence. To be fair, the assassins hired to kill him never thought to head up here, and so they were probably the safest routes for him to use. 

He didn’t expect the earthbender outside his office, smirking. 

“Oh, you are _so_ much better in person,” she drawled, blind eyes staring just past his left ear. Zuko blinked, cocking his head to one side. Druk poked his head out of his collar, feeler trailing curiosity through their connection. 

“Thank you?” She was at least better than the Water Tribe siblings. Unlike those two, she, at least, had tried understanding his position. “Is there a reason you are here?” 

“Snoozles is freaking out that you’re planning reversing troop removal. Sugar Queen is still seething at being told off for almost killing you and Twinkletoes has spent the last half hour berating her. Your Uncle seems to be freaking out about being invited to tea by some General or other.” 

“General Shen,” Zuko said tiredly, pushing the door to his office open and allowing Druk to slither off his arm and onto the desk. Toph cocked her head to listen to the little dragon shuffle onto the small cushion Zuko kept at the edge of his desk, a heated rock under it. The dragon loved warm places and it barely took much thought to heat the rock for him, if he ever did. His guards did it automatically these days. “I take it Airi delivered the invitation.” 

“More like threw it at his face,” Toph commented, flopping into Airi’s seat next to him. He ignored the audacity- considering she was blind, it was hardly as she would be reading Fire Nation secrets. “She also said something about a play.” 

“Love Amongst Dragons,” Zuko confirmed. “It’s been her favourite play since... forever.” Probably had something to do with the symmetry to their group. “Why, interested in watching?” 

“From what I hear, people are surprised you have time _to_ watch,” she said. “Unless, of course, you aren’t sleeping.” Her gaze was fixed disturbingly accurately on the cot in the corner. Zuko pulled the nearest paper towards him, scowled at the argumentative tone from Admiral Chan wishing to head back to Ba Sing Se, and yanked a fresh piece of parchment with more force than necessary in front of him. 

“I wasn’t aware you cared,” he commented. Her presence wasn’t as grating as he thought it would be. Toph hummed, shrugging. She allowed him to work in relative silence for about fifteen minuets. Several letters and orders later, some including threats, others coercion, she shifted almost deliberately. 

“Your sister left her room.” Zuko paused at the leading tone of voice. 

“Yes?” _Please, please tell me she didn’t attack anyone._

_“_ Katara’s _really_ mad right now.” He blinked, turning enough so he could see her. 

“She’s there, _right now_?” he asked (demanded). He winced at the tone. Toph smirked. 

“Yeah. She seems protective of someone.” There was a knowing glint in those pale green eyes. Zuko resisted the urge to poke his tongue out, returning to his paperwork. 

“Let me know if war breaks out again,” he said. She settled down smugly, feet up on the desk. She squealed when Druk licked her feet, seemingly interested in her dirty toes. “Don’t do that Druk,” he said distractedly, running a finger down the little dragon’s back. “You don’t know where she’s been.” 

“Yeah, like I don’t know where _you’ve_ been,” Toph teased, grinning. Zuko ignored her, frowning down at yet _another_ dour report on their harvests. Poor, poor and poor. Too many polluted rivers, bare fields and too few hands to help revive any of them. The sea ports could survive on fish, but you couldn’t eat fish forever. They needed rice and grain and there was nowhere to get it. _Ozai_ _, you were an idiot from the start_ he thought viciously. 

If they survived this Winter, it would be a miracle. 

An hour later, the door crashed open and a surprisingly put together Azula strode in, an amused Airi behind her. She took in the messy office, the cot, the earthbender perched next to him and the ink staining his fingers all within one sweep of her eyes, then plopped onto the cot. 

“Your little friends are all idiots,” she declared to the room at large, inspecting her nails. Toph snorted, Zuko sighed. 

“Wonderful,” he muttered. “If you’re up to threatening our enemies, can you threaten some of our Generals into _listening_ or we’ll be losing yet more men that we can’t afford to.” Azula held out a hand delicately. Airi stuck a paper in it, watching her through sharp eyes as she slid some paperwork towards herself. Namely, the grain counts Zuko had been diligently keeping. 

Her eyebrows scrunched together. 

“This is beneath even you, Zuzu,” Azula sighed, perusing the paper in her hands. “It is the work of the Minsters to care about the grain quotas.” 

“The Ministers are not qualified to do their jobs if they cannot produce enough grain to feed everyone,” Zuko snapped. “And I have no one to replace them with, no extra fields since Father _burned them all_ and every world leader breathing down my neck for reparations.” Toph sat up stiffly, wincing. She looked awkward, as if wondering if she ought to be here. Zuko didn’t care- she could report back to the others what dire straits they were in that they _couldn’t_ offer the kinds of reparations they wanted. 

“If the Earth King cannot feed his people, I don’t see why that is our problem,” Azula said airily. “But I see what you mean.” She hummed a moment. “I will add my own letter to yours for Admiral Chan. Why find more mouths to feed?” Zuko tried not to show how much he relaxed that she was actively _helping_ them. 

“Cold,” Toph commented. She didn’t _sound_ offended, but then again, would she show it if she were? Zuko tried not to think about that as shoved ink and paper towards Azula, Airi taking the farming quotas from him and shoving troop reports under his nose instead. 

He relaxed further at the numbers disembarking back home. There would be fewer letters of condolences to send out today than there had been all _week_. 

“We cannot afford to coddle the other nations,” Airi said in reply to Toph. “I am sure, as a merchant’s daughter, you understand the concept of prioritisation.” Toph nodded quietly, face grim. 

“Is it really that bad?” she whispered. 

“Bad enough that Uncle acts as if we ought to give it all away,” Zuko said through gritted teeth, pushing back the urge to cry once more. “Let alone what the Water Tribes will try to pull out of us. The South has resources enough to survive on their own once their warriors return. The North has no need of reparations other than some Fire Sages to lead the wayward spirits of the drowned home. We, however, cannot live off of fish alone.” Toph winced. 

“Right.” She was silent a moment, no doubt having felt the way Azula went still, considering the exact damage, no doubt for the first time, that Ozai had done on their people and the world. Let alone what he had done to his children. 

“Oh, Kaito gave me this on our way back from the ambassador’s rooms,” Airi said, as if just remembering. Zuko narrowed his eyes at her- he was rubbish at knowing when people were lying but he always knew when Airi was acting. She flashed him a smile and held out a small roll of paper, tied with a vine. 

One of these days he was going to make Kaito’s Grandmother send letters via hawk like a normal person. Her news, however, was welcome. 

“Azula,” he started, allowing a small smirk to slip onto his face. “Would you care to join us for tea with General Shen tonight?” 


	3. Hakoda

It had been a surprise when the new Fire Lord turned up at his cell. Hakoda had only recently been shipped over to the Boiling Rock, having spared a relieved breath that his men were merely imprisoned rather than killed. Bato had been sent to the Capital prison over Boiling Rock with the Chief. Only the leaders were sent to the most secure prison in the Fire Nation. 

When the Warden called him to the interrogation room, he had thought that this was it. This time that they tried to pry out where the Avatar had gone. Not that he would have given Aang and the children up, even had his own children _not_ been with him. The Comet had come and gone, they had all been locked in their rooms, a sense of dread falling over him. And now, the Fire Lord wanted to know where to find the Avatar. 

The Fire Lord was indeed waiting for him. It wasn’t the Fire Lord he was expecting. 

Hakoda had heard the rumours of the Banished Fire Prince. People whispered about it in ports, and even some of his fellow prisoners had tales to tell. A young woman by the name of Suki told him how the Prince had burned down her village chasing the Avatar. Another man, the hulking figure of Chit Sang, had scowled and stated he was the most loyal of the Royal Family. Another had stood, shaking and shivering, murmuring about an Agni Kai and the smell of burning flesh. Looking at the scar on a sixteen year old’s face, that part made sense. 

“Sit,” the Warden growled, oddly stiff compared to all the other times he had been in the man’s presence. Hakoda wasn’t sure why. Sure, the Fire Lord carried swords, but the likelihood that he knew how to use them was low. The Fire Prince was even rumoured to be a terrible firebender, despite the power of the royal family. Tui and La, three days ago the Warden himself had been making fun of that scar. Now, he was petrified and trying to hide it. 

Hakoda narrowed his eyes, sitting gingerly in the chair opposite. 

“Chief Hakoda,” the boy started. His voice was scratchy, as if he had inhaled smoke. His eyes were a disturbing gold. Something shifted under his collar, hidden by the armour he wore. Hakoda wondered how long it had been since he had been crowned. _Or had himself crowned,_ he thought bleakly, hands tightening into fists in his lap. “I hear you have been suspiciously quiet.” Hakoda scowled. 

“I won’t give away where the Avatar is,” he said firmly. The Fire Lord appeared to resist rolling his eyes. Barely. 

“The Avatar is in the Earth Kingdom, having imprisoned Ozai,” he intoned in a bored tone of voice. “Besides the obvious celebration they are having for defeating the suicidal frontal attack Ozai made in his madness, a sky bison is incredibly easy to track. Being the only one left, after all.” Hakoda swallowed. 

This was not the person described to him. He could understand the Warden’s fright now. 

“What is it that you want, then?” he asked. The Fire Lord smirked. 

“I have come to negotiate.” What occurred after that was a whirlwind of talks, negotiations where the Fire Lord haggled down to the last copper piece like any common merchant, and the release of _Southern_ _waterbenders_. What was more shocking was the number unwilling to return home. 

The only one to return to Caldera with Hakoda, who had come _with_ the Fire Lord for some reason, was a man named Inuksuk. He was aged, a little younger than his mother, having been captured young. His face was grim, unhappy as Hakoda inquired gently as to his experience. As to why so few were returning home. 

“We cannot,” Inuksuk said in the end. “Hama ruined our honour, our lives. Her actions caused retaliation for us all. The others... well, they were too damaged, too horrified to be able to return to their families. In imprisonment we were all family, all one tribe, and Hama betrayed us. The only thing waiting for us at home, is an ice floe.” Hakoda wasn’t sure what he meant until he explained further. 

The very concept of _bloodbending_ made him shiver. No one knew where she had gone either, meaning she was potentially still out there. 

Bato had been waiting in the Palace at Caldera. He, too, was horrified by Inuksuk’s story, and tried with Hakoda to reassure him that they did not hold this Hama’s actions against them. They all survived somehow. Only Tonraq and Nuliajuk changed their minds. The others stared with pale, baleful eyes, shaking their heads. The Fire Lord had given them asylum, they were staying with the Dorje, whoever they were, who were teaching them how to adapt within the shores of the Fire Nation. That they felt more welcome here, with the people who hurt them, than they did with their own people. Hakoda couldn’t understand it. 

Inuksuk looked sad, clasping hands with his fellow tribesmen and women, understanding where Hakoda couldn’t. 

It was barely a week later that Sokka, Katara and Aang burst into his room, his children pouncing on him and Bato like polar-dog pups. Toph hovered near the back before slinking out again, face unreadable. He held them close, noting General Iroh wandering in after them, talking quietly with the guard who had led them here. Or, trying to, since the guard seemed to be abjectly ignoring him. 

“Dad!” Sokka breathed, once they pulled apart. “How... how have they been treating you?” He seemed more uncertain than scared. 

“Well, the Fire Lord hasn’t tried to go back on his word. Yet,” Hakoda stated. Truthfully, the boy disturbed him. There was something unnatural about the others with him and he had yet to meet the infamous Lightening Princess. He had heard her screaming, though. 

“Just wait,” Katara growled. “He will. He always does.” She was pacing, angry. “I don’t know why we are listening to Zuko anyway. We came here to crown Iroh-” 

“And I am now no longer in line for the throne,” Iroh cut her off, sounding as if he had aged ten years. “It is prudent for my nephew to have done so. I knew the consequences of openly fighting with the Avatar. And, clearly, my father had once had _other_ plans for my nephew.” Inuksuk, who had been sat quietly by the window, made a grumbly noise at the back of his throat. 

He sipped his tea primly when everyone turned to look at him. 

“I take it you are one of the waterbenders my nephew has released,” Iroh said when the silence stretched. Inuksuk gave a strained smile. 

“Fire Lord Zuko was kind to us,” he agreed. “Far kinder than Azulon or Ozai. Or even you, Dragon of the West.” The words were icy sharp, as cold as tundra winds. Hakoda almost shivered himself. 

“How can you defend him?” Katara snapped, turning hard eyes on him. “I know what the Fire Nation did to you! Hama told us-” 

“If you met with Hama,” Inuksuk stated, just as coldly, eyes narrowed, “I pray you learnt _nothing_ from that monster.” Katara reared back, almost surprised at the venom in his voice. 

“She... she was very sick,” Katara started, more uncertain now. “She needed _help_ that no one would give her after all the Fire Nation did...” Inuksuk’s face grew _more_ icy somehow. 

“Hama,” he started, “did what she did without thought for the rest of us. For the rest of her tribe. She escaped; she could have helped us. Instead, she left us to die, to be tortured further so she could enact her sick, twisted form of _revenge_. She was tribe, and yet if we were home, I would have pushed her off the nearest ice floe to preserve us all.” Hakoda flinched. Katara was pale, eyes wide. “Hama,” Inuksuk continued, “was no longer tribe by the end.” 

Sokka swallowed loudly, almost a gulp. 

“Right,” he said, voice three octaves higher than normal. “Can we just... not talk about Hama?” He sent a beseeching look to his sister. “And talk about the new Fire Lord instead?” 

“Sure,” Katara spat. “Let’s talk about how much the Fire Lord is refusing to compensate the other nations.” Hakoda shared a glance with Bato. 

Hakoda had done his best to learn as much as he could about this Fire Lord. The servants were happy to chat, unless you brought up reparations. Inuksuk was no help, Tonraq gave horrific smirks at the idea of Zuko in charge and Nuliajuk gave him a tongue lashing for merely thinking the teenager wasn’t up to the job. Lady Airi gave him narrow eyes when he brought up reparations and the boy from the Swamps just shrugged and asked where, exactly, he thought the reparations would come from. As a leader, Hakoda knew that delegation of resources was difficult at the best of times, let alone when people were breathing down your neck for it. 

It was a task Hakoda did not envy the young Fire Lord. 

“Refusing, or incapable?” he asked quietly. Sokka stiffened. Katara scowled, Aang paling. 

“Incapable,” Iroh said tiredly, before his daughter could answer. “The harvests have apparently been poor for the last five years. With Ozai’s burning of Earth Kingdom crops during the Comet... I imagine there will be few places in the world living without famine this Winter.” He seemed bowed by the news, even without having the responsibility to solve it. Hakoda nodded, pressing his lips together. 

“I thought so,” he said, sinking back into his seat, wishing he could place his head in his hands. Katara might not feel sympathy for Zuko, but Hakoda could barely imagine trying to feed their small tribe, let alone a whole Nation. “So, reasonable concessions.” He looked at his children expectantly. Sokka shifted uncomfortably. Katara looked away. 

“Well, Fire Lord Jerkface already released our prisoners,” Sokka said awkwardly into the expectant silence. “And, er, he said he’s set aside a stipend for the Earth Kingdom... and, um, something about the Air Clans?” The last part was a squeak. Aang was nodding enthusiastically. 

“Yeah! He said he’d help me find people to repopulate the Temples!” Hakoda wondered if he ought to point out that as soon as those people left the protection of the Fire Nation, they would be fewer mouths to feed for the kid. He kept resolutely silent. 

“So, he has so far made reasonable reparations, considering the circumstances,” he started. Katara whirled around, glaring. 

“ _Reasonable_?” she cried, irritated. “He’s doing the _bare minimum_! That isn’t reasonable, it’s miserly! Three waterbenders? People who were wrongly imprisoned? The torture our people went through? You just want to forget _all_ of that?” Hakoda gave her his best Chief glare. It was hard, sometimes, to be both a Chief and a father. This was his first proper test of it, however. 

“Katara, I am not going to steal food from children’s mouths,” he said sternly. She flinched back. “There are innocents, even in the Fire Nation. I know you have seen them.” He remembered nights listening to her rave about the small fishing town, the pollution that had been killing them. He wondered if she had forgotten them already. “And I do not envy the task of putting a stop to a war machine that has been financing a nation for a hundred years. The Fire Lord no longer has the resources to continue the war and I attacked soldiers only. I will not sully our honour, and the honour of our warriors, for petty revenge over someone who was all of eight when Kya was killed.” The same could not be said of the Dragon of the West. 

Katara reared back, as if he had physically slapped her. 

“This isn’t about revenge!” she hissed. “It’s about justice!” 

“No, it _is_ about revenge,” Hakoda said tiredly. He prayed something would interrupt this conversation. “Justice was joining the war. Justice was imprisoning the people who attacked ours. Justice was being given a personal apology from the Fire Lord, who wasn’t even old enough to be part of the war at the time.” He paused to look her directly in the eye. “Asking for more than they can give is not justice. That is _revenge_ plain and simple. And I _will not do it_.” 

The door was flung open before she could answer. A different teenager stood in the doorway, flanked by Lady Airi. From the way the room stiffened, Hakoda could guess who this was. 

He had never met the Lightening Princess. But he had heard the tales. Considering the small flame headpiece stuck within her hair, there was no one else this girl _could_ be. Blood red lips smirked, but Hakoda could see a thin crust of something covering her face, hiding darkened shadows under her eyes, giving life to the deathly pallor of her skin. Eyes which, while the bright royal gold, were just a little too wide to be completely sane. 

“Well, well,” Princess Azula drawled, studying short, red painted nails with an air of boredom. “It seems you really _couldn’t_ go five minuets without plotting treason, dear Uncle.” Sokka scowled as Katara slipped into a fighting stance. Aang looked vaguely curious. 

“What do you want?” Sokka asked stiffly, eyes darting between Airi and the Princess. Airi stepped forwards. 

“Princess Azula wished to speak with you. I, however, am only here to offer an invitation Fire Lord Zuko forgot to mention.” She held out a slip of paper to Iroh. “General Shen has invited you and the Avatar to tea tonight, General Iroh,” she said primly. “Do try not to be late.” Iroh took it with a wary gaze. 

“Thank you.” The Dragon of the West didn’t even look at it, eyes fixed on his niece. “And I am not certain what you mean, niece.” A smirk slid onto the Princess’ face, golden eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, but I am sure that you do,” she said, leaning against the doorframe and essentially blocking the way out. “After all, Zuzu did like to come complain about a certain network of daft old men and their gambling pai sho games.” Iroh stiffened, as did the children. Hakoda tried not to wince at her next words. “He truly was most upset that his ship was little more than a messenger vessel for three years.” 

“That was not why I left with Zuko,” Iroh said, just a little too sharply. Gold narrowed further, the cruel smirk deepening. 

“No. But it was just so _convenient_.” She looked a little too pleased with herself for comfort. 

“Princess Azula,” Hakoda started, before anyone could interrupt again. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He gave a polite bow, one he had noticed the servants giving the Fire Lord. There was no way he was offering this lion-shark an arm to clasp in respect. 

She seemed to find the bow disdainful either way. 

“Well, I hardly expect a peasant like you to know what to do with yourself in the presence of royalty,” she commented. Airi gave her a flat look, which was pointedly ignored. 

“May I ask why you have graced us with your presence?” Hakoda asked, ignoring the insult. At least she hadn’t called him a savage yet. The smirk twisted, a little less cruel, a little more pointed. 

“I hear,” she started, too light and airy for comfort, “you came to crown a traitor.” Sparks crackled around her fingers. “I do hope I don’t have to show you what our father taught _me_.” Hakoda got the sense she was practically begging for it. 

And his brave, wonderful daughter, just couldn’t help herself. 

“Oh, we’ve seen _exactly_ what you can do,” she growled, before fixing her face into a cruel facsimile of sweetness. “But I hear you lost to Zuko recently. And we’ve beaten him plenty.” The Princess barely reacted, but the flare of her nostrils hinted at something caged, rage waiting to be released. “Besides, it’s the full moon tonight.” Gold narrowed further. 

“Going to force me to slit my own throat?” Azula asked, just as saccharine sweet. Out of the corner of his eye, Hakoda saw Inuksuk place his cup down stiffly. One hand hovered over it. The other was reaching for the window latch. 

“No,” he said firmly, “she won’t, if she wishes to return home with us.” Katara froze, betrayal written across her face. “We have already established between us the consequences for bloodbending. And the _dishonour_ it brings among waterbenders.” Katara seemed to vibrate in anger. Inuksuk stopped his attempt to leave via the window. 

“Hm,” Azula hummed, looking distinctly pleased with herself. “Well, that was all I came for.” She turned, making for the door, before stopping suddenly. “Oh, wait, I forgot. Just one thing.” Lightening flashed and Hakoda ducked. The teapot in the centre of the room shattered, the table setting alight and tea splashing everywhere. “Don’t mess with what is _mine_ ,” the girl stated over her shoulder as Sokka set to beating out the fire with a cushion. Hakoda shivered as Airi bowed silently and following her out of the room. 

Barely two minuets later, Katara had rounded on him, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t get a chance to speak. 

“Thank you, Chief Hakoda,” Inuksuk said flatly, doing nothing to help extinguish the flames. Hakoda had only seen the man bend a handful of times. That he was willing to do so in front of the Lightening Princess because of Katara spoke volumes that Hakoda did not wish to think about. “I do so wish to see the frozen tundra again before greeting Tui and La.” 

“I said there was no place for bloodbending in the tribe,” Hakoda said stiffly, wishing it didn’t have to be him. “I meant it. No matter... no matter who it is I have to banish for doing so.” He swallowed heavily, heart thumping against his chest. Inuksuk’s eyes were sharp, but he nodded, even as Katara made a choked noise, the thump noting she had fallen to her knees. 

“I can see that.” He left the room, giving Katara a wide berth as he did so. Aang watched him go with sad eyes. 

“That was really mean,” he stated once Inuksuk had left the room. “You didn’t have to tell him you wouldn’t let Katara go home if she defended us from Azula.” Hakoda glanced at Iroh- the General pointedly did not meet his eyes. Bato stood in the corner, staunchly refusing to comfort Katara, face hard. He did meet Hakoda’s eyes, face softening a moment in sympathy. 

“Except,” Hakoda started, deeply regretting being the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, no matter how suited he was to it, “I did.” Aang blinked, staring at him wide-eyed. “We had already spoken with Inuksuk and the others, told them that bloodbending would be illegal within the Southern Water Tribe. This was before I even knew Katara and yourself had met with this Hama.” Poor Sokka looked torn between comforting his sister and staying out of things, singed cushion held tightly in both hands. “And we had already spoken about bloodbending within the room before Azula arrived. Katara knew very well what the consequences would have been. And trading one waterbender who could become a liability, for three with friendly relations with an enemy is one I must make, as Chief of the Tribe.” 

He hated how cold it was. How it sounded as if he didn’t care, despite feeling as if he were ripped in two. But the unfortunate facts were, without the expected reparations they thought they could get from the Fire Lord, especially in terms of food, they would need the aid of the waterbenders for making igloos, shelter, walls... and if that meant leaving behind his daughter, it was a sacrifice he had to make. As Chief. 

It still broke his heart. 

Katara burst into tears. The Avatar stared at him in horror. Only now, did Iroh meet his gaze, sympathy there. Hakoda glared- the last thing he needed was sympathy from a man who had allowed this situation to come to fruition. He, at the very least, had been in charge when the Southern Raiders came for Katara. He, at the very least, had travelled with them during the time they would have _met_ Hama, could have warned them against trusting her. Hakoda didn’t know what she had taught his daughter, but Iroh could have prevented all of it. 

His sympathy for the man dropped considerably. 

“Katara,” Bato started, face grim, “we are aware that you do not like the Fire Nation. We sympathise and understand. But, we cannot start the war again over rice that doesn’t exist, and I would hope you have respect enough for your father to not force his hand when it comes to bloodbending and banishment.” He fixed a stern gaze upon her, even despite her tears. His daughter nodded, hugging herself. 

With that agreed, Sokka rushed to her side. Hakoda wished he could go too, but it would only make her feel worse. Instead, he headed into the little garden the adjoined their rooms. Several turtleducks quacked at him from the pond. The Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard gave him a wry grin, munching on a peach. 

“Tough crowd,” Kaito said nonchalantly. Hakoda glared, not in the mood to deal with this particular waterbender. Kaito grinned and threw the peach stone away, sucking at sticky fingers. “Impressive though, standing up to the Princess like that. Especially since she’s rather... unstable of late.” Hakoda paused. 

Zuko hadn’t said anything about his sister in Hakoda’s presence. The servants whispered in the corridors, but went silent when he approached. The guards gave blank looks if Hakoda dared ask. All he had to go on was the small, subtle hints in the girl’s appearance and the screams of the past week. 

“Unstable enough to be struck from the line of succession?” Hakoda said, raising an eyebrow. Kaito narrowed his eyes back. 

“You are aware that Princess Azula is the _younger_ sibling?” he stated, tone suggesting Hakoda was an idiot. 

“I am aware she was the favoured sibling,” Hakoda pointed out. Kaito rolled his eyes. 

“The Fire Sages are rather stringent about the line of succession. Besides, doing so would go against Fire Lord Azulon’s will, which was already twisted just so Ozai could sit his dumb arse on the Fire Throne. Man knew he was living on borrowed time for five years, doubly so for the past three months. Probably why he had nothing to say when we left for Azuma.” Hakoda didn’t know where Azuma was, but even he could hear something off about all of that. 

“How could Ozai be living on borrowed time?” he asked, narrowing his own eyes. There were pieces missing to this puzzle. Kaito smirked, standing upright and stretching languidly. 

“Wow, they really were right that news reaches the south slowly,” he said. “Unfortunately, the lesson on Fire Nation succession and the Succession Crises from five years ago is a subject too long to discuss now. Perhaps you ought to ask General Shen tonight. He’s a fan of that kind of political history.” 

The boy was up the tree and leaping onto the roof of the Palace before Hakoda could ask more. More confused than ever, Hakoda headed back inside. 


	4. Iroh

General Shen had been one of Fire Lord Azulon’s must trusted advisors. His first assignment had been with the man during the battle of Garsai, had defended Yu Dao when the Earth Kingdom retaliated thirty years after its taking. At the age of ninety, he was one of the oldest Generals in the Fire Nation and the only one left of Azulon’s who had survived Ozai’s purge. 

Iroh knew better than to underestimate him. 

The man had set the table in the traditional Fire Nation manner, low table and cushions upon the tatami floor. The kamiza was set furthest from the door, although Iroh refrained from asking who the most important guest was. The table was set with far too many places for merely their group and General Shen. Small hashioki had been set beside each place: fourteen in all. It would appear that General Shen anticipated extra guests. 

Iroh had done his best to coach the children on the proper etiquette for such a traditional meal, but in the face of Sokka’s appetite vs manners, he had unfortunately low hopes. The only consolation was that the insult of bad manners might be taken as a lack of knowledge, rather than a reason to argue to restart war. Just because the Fire Lord had so far ordered it so, did not mean it was a popular opinion. He offered the aged General a polite bow, the proper angle for a General to a senior General. He was, after all, no longer a Prince. 

Shen did little more than grunt, eyes fixed instead upon the others within his group. 

Hakoda and Bato offered their own, shaky bows, Aang barely made it to the same level as Iroh, and the Water Tribe siblings offered none at all. Toph gave the bow of a merchant to a superior, which Shen seemed to find the most satisfactory. The girl had even allowed the Palace servants to scrub the dirt from her feet, although not without making faces during the process. 

The servants had offered them all a change of clothing. Where they had produced traditional Air Monk robes, Water Tribe tunics and a pretty Earth Kingdom gown, Iroh didn’t know. His own robes were utilitarian, if nice, military fare, once again showing his downgraded status. He managed to give the matron who had placed them on his bed a thin-lipped smile. The woman had glared back and left without a word. 

“Sit,” Shen practically ordered them. “Dinner will be served when our guests arrive.” He gestured to the places opposite him, nearest the door. As host, he was seated in the middle of the table. Hakoda seated himself at the end of the table, Iroh opting for the seat next to him. The children crowded around, all except Toph, who slipped into a place on the right of the kamiza. Shen didn’t even blink. 

Iroh winced as the Water Tribes sat cross-legged. Shen was sitting in seiza. 

“Soo,” Sokka started, Iroh wincing again. “Who are we waiting for?” 

“Further guests,” Shen answered shortly. He was giving the boy a strong side-eye. Hakoda, noting Iroh’s own position of seiza, adjusted his seat awkwardly, his second following suit. Shen offered them a begrudging nod, still side-eyeing Sokka. “I see you have the manners of a wolf-bat.” Sokka’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, glancing around. 

Toph made a movement with her hand and he squeaked. A moment later, he noted his father’s change of position and, frowning, mimicked the formal posture. Aang, who had already been sitting in the correct position, gave an encouraging nod. Katara only followed reluctantly, but it was enough. 

“It is a delight to have been so honoured with your invite,” Iroh said, wishing for tea. It would make for a good ice-breaker while they waited on the others to arrive. 

“Strange, I didn’t mean for it to seem a compliment,” Shen said dismissively. His eyes were firmly fixed now on the door. “Especially for one who arrived for a throne he formally abdicated five years ago.” Iroh blinked, a little startled. 

“I was not aware my letter made its way to the Fire Lord,” he said carefully. Hakoda seemed to perk up, head cocked slightly to the side. 

“Ozai burned it and forged a new one.” It would seem his brother had been plotting megalomania for far longer than he had thought. 

Iroh could remember Ozai as a young boy and had quietly wished for it not to be so. That wish had died three years ago on the stone tiles of an Agni Kai arena. After that, he had forcefully banished the image of the laughing child who chased after him in the Palace Gardens and delighted in fire shows. He had always loved the military, diving into politics, and seeming much like any other healthy child. But there had also always been something... missing. That same something, he had seen in Azula, causing him to avoid the girl all throughout her own youth. 

Perhaps, in hindsight, that had been a mistake. 

Hakoda was eyeing him from the side, face guarded. Unlike the children, who looked surprised, or Toph, who looked as if something had been confirmed for her, the man did _not_ appear surprised by this information. Or the fact that he had abdicated, nor that certain Generals and Councillors would have seen it as the reason Zuko had stripped him of his titles. Instead, he seemed... cautious. As if something had been confirmed for him, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

Whatever the Chief was feeling, it was interrupted by the arrival of Shen’s other guests. Guests, as it turned out, included the Fire Lord and Lightening Princess. 

Zuko still wore his formal robes from that morning in the garden. His hair still placed in a formal topknot, the flame headpiece perfectly straight. The only concession he had made was to remove his swords, although a familiar dagger was worn openly at his waist. Behind him came Lady Airi, at her side, Azula. Both girls were dressed in pink. Iroh had never seen his niece wear pink. Ozai insisted on dressing his children in the traditional military red and black. Azula wasn’t even wearing robes conducive to fighting, not that he doubted she _could_ if she so wished. Only a small amount of hair was pulled into a topknot for her own headpiece. The rest was left to fall over her shoulders, leaving her with a striking resemblance to her mother. 

Or at least, would have, had she not had Ozai’s eyes and demeanour. 

Zuko gave Shen a polite, shallow bow, in deference to the host. Shen rose to give Zuko a deep bow of his own, almost falling to his knees. Zuko’s face twisted in concern at the creak of old bones. Hakoda followed his lead to offer their own bows to the Fire Lord, Iroh pasting a genial smile on his face. 

“Nephew! This is a wonderful surprise!” A distinctly unladylike snort echoed from the back of the group. Leaning against young Kaito’s arm, was an aged woman dressed in rather plain drab brown clothing, unsuited and sticking out from their finery. Her hair was wound with vines, her sharp eyes a bright, clear blue. 

“Unlikely,” she stated, leaning heavily on a cane made of gnarled wood. She turned her nose up at Iroh, snubbing him to offer a creaky bow of her own to Shen. “There was no need to show off, Shen,” she stated, once she rose again. Shen offered a thin-lipped smile. 

“When in Ba Sing Se,” he said, almost teasingly. “I could not offend the great Avatar by serving paltry fare.” The woman huffed, allowing Shen to lead her to the place next to his. Zuko settled at the kamiza, the place of honour. Azula settled on her left, giving a glare at Airi, who gave a slight shrug and a pleasant smile. 

Iroh noticed the thick layer of make-up on her face, the suddenly shortened nails. His heart sank, even as Zuko avoided his gaze. Something shifted under his shirt. 

“General Iroh, this is Lady Kannika, of the Foggy Swamp. She is head of the Swamp Tribes and worked with Grandfather for many years prior to his death.” The sharp smile he received told him _exactly_ where Kaito had gotten the trait. 

“An honour, to meet you, Lady Kannika.” He offered her a winning smile. The woman raised a sardonic eyebrow. 

“Well, it is hardly an honour to meet you,” she sniffed. Servants appeared from behind the screens, food piled up. Iroh noticed that, despite the table set for a luxuriously large meal, it was fairly simple fare. Rice built up with vegetables, seafood ramen, unagi and shioyaki sakana as the centrepiece. A distinct lack of meats were filled out on the table, minimal dishes with use of grains. 

If there wasn’t a more blatant sign of the approaching famine, Iroh didn’t know what it was. 

The others didn’t seem to have noticed the food set out, happily helping themselves. One of the servants placed a vegetarian ramen by Aang, as he would be left out of almost all of the dishes. Iroh tucked in himself, though, not wishing to point out any problems- it would appear he was not popular here. Considering how far his nephew had sat from him, surrounded by problematic figures, did nothing to settle his nerves. 

“So, Iroh,” General Shen started, placing his chopsticks down on his hashioki. “I hear you fought with the Avatar against your brother.” Iroh paused, placing his own chopsticks down. 

“I fought for the freedom of the world,” he said carefully. Shen harrumphed. 

“For a traitor, you are rather blasé about it.” He eyed Iroh, glaring at his position at the table. He was sandwiched between Bato and Aang. “Tell me, how long were you planning on betraying your family?” Iroh scowled openly for once. 

“Never, have I _ever_ plotted to betray my family,” he growled. Azula made a giggling noise, whispering something to her brother. Zuko made a face and held a piece of fish up to his collar. A red nose poked itself out to gobble it up, shoot him a glare and purr in delight as Azula tickled its snout. 

“And yet, both your nephew and niece, as well as your own Father, May Agni’s Shine Eternal, did not think the same.” Shen stated decidedly. “Rather curious, though, that you presumed Azulon was attempting to _continue_ the war.” He gave Iroh a _look_. Iroh returned it, irritated now. Zuko and his friends continued to eat. 

Kannika smirked. 

“I think you shall have to mince it up for your General, Shen,” she stated, ensuring her chopsticks were down first. Sokka’s eyes were jumping from one to another, Hakoda stiff, having barely touched his food. Katara looked three breaths from skewering someone. “Clearly, you are being too _subtle_ for the Dragon of the West.” Aang frowned. 

“You’re from the Foggy Swamp,” the Avatar said, sounding confused. “But you’re helping the Fire Nation?” 

“Why not? The Swamp does not just reside solely within the Earth Kingdom, and Azulon was never foolish enough to consider attempting to burn down such a spiritual place.” She looked far too self-satisfied for Iroh’s liking. “It helped, that we were considered for his plans in consolidating Fire Nation ruling on even grounds after the war.” 

“What?” Sokka gaped with his mouth full. Iroh refused to face-palm. He had dealt with a fair share of cultural clashes himself, and the boy couldn’t be perfect from only a few lessons. “You mean Azulon was planning to _end_ the war?” 

“It means Azulon had far greater plans than just winning,” Hakoda said grimly. He hadn’t set his chopsticks down, but at least he wasn’t _eating_ either. And Iroh had not had time to talk with the man about cultural customs. “Didn’t he?” Hakoda was glancing between the teens at the other end of the table, the little dragon now wrestling, gently, with Toph, who was giggling, Azula being entertained by Airi and what sounded like several citations from various plays. In their midst, Zuko continued to eat quietly, eyes on his food. Kaito was grinning just a little _too_ much for comfort and Yumi was eating with prim politeness. 

“You are correct. After all, Azulon learnt how to care for those among us who were _not_ originally of the Fire Nation.” Aang swallowed at the hard look he received from Shen. “Tell me, Avatar, what you know of the Air Clans who fled for their lives from your Monk Sangye?” 

“They didn’t _flee_ ,” Aang started, a little too hotly. He squirmed when even Sokka gave him a slightly disbelieving look, eyes flicking towards Yumi. Iroh winced. “They were, um, nomadic. And fought with weapons.” Yumi snorted and Aang flushed. “They were _supposed_ to lay down their weapons, to be peaceful! It was what the spirits decreed!” 

“The Wind Wraith may be a gentle breeze or a raging hurricane,” Yumi stated calmly. “Monk Sangye did not mean to merely subdue us. He meant to _eliminate_ us. In the name of peace and harmony and spiritual enlightenment.” Stormy grey stared into clear with all the rage of a hurricane. 

“You are of the Wangdue,” Iroh said tiredly. “The Subduers, the warriors, those who walk the winds with bows and steel.” Such ferocious people would never set their weapons down, much as Ozai would never have been talked into peace. It was no wonder Zuko had never mentioned it to Aang. And no wonder, that so few were willing to return to the Temples.” 

“The Wangdue are not alone,” Zuko said suddenly, voice quiet and even. The patient tones of a teacher, even as he fed the dragon some more fish. It licked his fingers in thanks. “The Dorje, pretty as diamonds who danced on breezes and could fell a man with their fists. Performers, for the most part, defenders of the Fire Lord on occasion. They brought chi-blocking to the Fire Nation and taught our people how to defend against it.” He paused, perhaps feeling the yawning void in the room. _We have fought the Dorje,_ Iroh realised. Zuko had mentioned it before, but he hadn’t truly _heard_. Ty Lee was of the Dorje, Zuko had said. And the way Azula didn’t twitch, didn’t even look surprised... either the girl had discovered this on her own or Zuko had told her. And something about Piandao as well... 

“You said Piandao was of the Rabten,” Sokka noted faintly. He had remembered to swallow this time. 

“A Clan of swordsmen,” Zuko nodded, eyes still on the table. “Steadfast in their beliefs and unwilling to bend in the face of the monks. There were others. The Thokmay and Tsewang already had a peaceful lifestyle- only a few of their non-benders had no wish to settle within the Temples, if they didn’t live there already. The Kunchen and Lobsang were split. Some went to the Temples, others hid or just attempted to stay where they were. The Jinpa didn’t believe in settling in any one place, even if you could travel from a base. Sangye had some kidnapped all the same, though.” He paused, almost as if to draw breath. “We couldn’t save any of the Gyaltsen, though. Not with their bloody history. Those that didn’t survive the Monks... they were taken by the Earth Kingdom and made _examples_ of.” The dragon gave a little trill, feelers wrapped around his nephew’s wrist. The children were all pale, unable to grasp what that meant. _Peaceful and enlightened,_ Iroh thought grimly. _When they wanted to be._ Of course, Zuko would fight tooth and nail to keep them safe, to preserve what these people had fought so hard to cling to. 

“That’s...” Sokka seemed unable to get the words out. Katara was on her feet, the broth of her ramen in hand. 

“You _liar_ ,” she hissed, eyes narrow points. “How _dare_ you say that Aang’s people-” 

“I do believe the war is about to break out again,” Airi noted lightly from the other end of the table. “Perhaps it is time for us to make our leave.” Iroh winced. The last course hadn’t even been served yet. 

“Katara,” Hakoda said sharply. “Sit down.” His daughter looked at him, askance. Hakoda stared right back, a reminder of the events that had taken place hours earlier. Katara sat. “My apologies for my daughter’s rudeness,” Hakoda said formally, head bent towards Shen. “She can be hotheaded.” 

“It can be hard, to hear the truth,” Shen grunted, as if Katara was hardly worth his time. Iroh winced again but said nothing. A benign Shen was better than an angry one. “Besides, the Avatar required the education. As did you, General.” 

“So, my Father taught my nephew of the Air Clans.” Zuko had said that he had been taught in accordance to his standing, plans of his father’s which had died with Lu Ten. “He intended to create a rather deadly group of guards for the next Fire Lord.” Zuko flinched and Iroh’s heart broke. _Oh, nephew, if only it could have been anyone else._

_“_ Grandfather needed a show of faith. For the world, when he stepped down.” Iroh blinked, as did Hakoda. 

A horrible conclusion entered his head, and a glance at Shen confirmed it. 

“Azulon never intended for either I or Ozai to sit the Dragon Throne,” he said hollowly. Kannika gave a sarcastic slow clap. Shen shrugged as if it didn’t matter. Azula looked a little startled at that revelation. 

“Grandfather had me sit in on private lessons with Lu Ten,” Zuko said, ducking his head. Iroh remembered those- lessons he had allowed, because Azulon promised to teach his son _personally_. At the time, he thought it simply an excuse for a grandfather to spend more time with his grandson. Now, however... “Water, Air and Fire. All he had left to look for was Earth, preferably from one of the older colonies...” Zuko trailed off. Toph was pale next to him, hand clutching his. “But when you set to the Siege of Ba Sing Se, Lu Ten insisted he needed to bleed for his people first, either none in the military would respect him. Grandfather wanted him to wait, to stay here until I, at least, was old enough but... he insisted. Said he had no need of a guard, while surrounded by allies in a camp.” And yet, Lu Ten had insisted to Iroh to be on the battlefield, argued he needed to gain his men’s respect. And no one had been expecting the spike of rock in his back. 

“It was not your fault,” Iroh said gently. _Is this why he has tried to push me away? Because he has felt guilty, for so long?_ Perhaps, in his youth, he might have been angered to find he was not meant for the throne. But, even within the darkest days of the Siege, his son by his side, he didn’t _think_ he would have held it against either of them. His father... well, Azulon was cunning, more than Iroh had first considered, and bitterness may have festered there. But it made sense- no Fire Lord who had taken part in the war would be trusted by the other nations. 

“Well, his killer is dead either way,” Azula said airily. “And crushing the man’s spirit was the most fun I had in Ba Sing Se.” She smirked, satisfied with herself. Kaito rolled his eyes good naturedly and Zuko offered her a soft smile. 

“I know,” he said gently, as if praising a skittish turtle-duck. “And honestly? Going through Lake Laogi, I’m _glad_ Long Feng’s dead.” His nephew shivered. “If we didn’t have the body, I’d be worried he just had him mindbent instead.” And _that_ made Iroh go cold, to imagine his son turned against them. 

Azula shivered subtly and leant closer to her brother. 

The meal continued in slightly stunned silence. Iroh got the feeling that no one knew quite what to say. _He_ certainly didn’t. It would appear he had underestimated his nephew greatly all these years. But there was one thing that didn’t quite add up, because while Iroh hadn’t been at Azulon’s funeral, he had heard- 

“I heard Ozai was crowned at Fire Lord Azulon’s will,” Hakoda said into the silence after he had finished eating, chopsticks set aside. “Why, if he did not wish for the man to sit the throne?” Airi smirked. Azula cocked her head, as if curious, Kaito looked smug and Zuko... was pointedly not looking at him again. 

“Ozai,” Shen started in a low growl, “forged a new will for the Fire Sages and claimed to the Council who knew of Azulon’s will, which was _already amended_ in the case such an event would occur, that he was stepping up as Regent to the Fire Lord. It has been some time since a child inherited the title, and never in wartime.” Iroh’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

“Zuko?” he whispered. Zuko refused to look at him. Azula’s eyes narrowed, eyebrow raised, intrigued. “You...?” 

“Why do you think I thought it would be the General?” Zuko replied, voice barely audible. Azula’s knuckles went white as she gripped the table. _My greatest shame,_ Iroh thought in horror. _I thought it was allowing him to misunderstand, to step into the arena. Instead, it was a mistake entirely my own._

_“_ You mean...” Sokka trailed off, gulping. Even Katara looked a little stunned. “Zuko was Fire Lord. He was _always_ Fire Lord. And Ozia _banished him_.” 

“Technically, Ozai didn’t have that power at Court,” Shen stated, nail tapping on the table. He was glaring directly at Iroh, who knew the blow was coming. “Had we had time, that phoney banishment would never have gone ahead. However, Ozai played his cards well and _someone_ played right into them.” Hakoda had turned hard eyes on him as well. 

“You stole him in the night.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I feared Ozai would kill him,” Iroh said through numb lips. He hid the trembling of his hands. “I did not know... Didn’t realise... Zuko said _nothing_ of this...” 

“I didn’t know Grandfather had _made_ me Fire Lord!” It exploded out of Zuko like an inferno, eyes hurt and _not looking at him_. “Only an idiot with all the information I had wouldn’t have been able to figure out Ozai forged the will, but I was _eleven_ and the Sages were never going to let me look at it! And Kaito had to flee the moment news came in, just in case, and Yumi was training with the Yu Yan so it was just me and Airi, and then Mum disappeared and...” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Ozai didn’t know about our training. He’d never have publicly banished me if he did. But he made sure I was _alone_. And right when someone could have done something about him... you stole me away and I had to go running after a _myth_.” And _there_ was the bitterness. Even expecting it, Iroh still flinched. 

“I am an old fool,” he admitted out loud. “I can see your lesson, now, Shen.” He eyed the older General with a flat look. Shen looked the least bit remorseful. “If you need it so, I shall leave, nephew, back to my tea shop in Ba Sing Se.” Zuko swallowed. Azula looked triumphant, which made Iroh want to stay all the more. What the girl could do- 

“If you stay,” Zuko started, tone emotionless, “you cannot snoop. You will be under guard all the time, you won’t be allowed within the War Room or Council Chambers or near visiting dignitaries. If you believe I am making a mistake, you cannot say so in others' hearing. And you cannot be associated with someone known to be able to steal Agni’s gift.” For a moment, Iroh’s heart soared. 

“You want him to abandon Aang?” Katara spat, glaring at the current Fire Lord. “You want there to be no consequences for what Ozai did?” Zuko glared right back. 

“There have been enough consequences, I think, for what Ozai did,” Zuko said slowly, carefully. Pointedly. “Perhaps if it were your bending being stolen forever, to never feel the push and pull of water, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge why I want _that_ away from my people. Especially with his threats regarding the Air Clans and the Temples.” Aang, pale and scared, curled in on himself. 

“Would you rather I killed him?” he asked, almost despairingly. “He’s your Father, even if-” Both siblings were giving the Avatar a look. As one unit, they both nodded. 

Aang shut up very quickly. 

Zuko rose, bowing to Shen. “Thank you for the meal, General Shen,” he said politely. “We were honoured to break bread with you today.” Shen inclined his head. With not a word further, Zuko swept out, taking his sister and friends with him. Toph sat alone again with only Kannika for company at that end of the table. 

“Well,” the old woman said, playing with the tea in her cup. “Now that the politics are over with. I hear tell that some of my people were here on the Day of Black Sun...” Staring into that playful smirk, Iroh knew exactly where Kaito had inherited his mischievous streak as well. 


	5. Azula

Standing in her room after that intriguing dinner with General Shen, Azula stared at the space, wondering. _They cleaned._ It wasn’t much, the servants always cleaned. It wasn’t worth their time to leave one of the royal family in a dirty decrepit room. But the walls had been scrubbed of her musings, her reminders of who she was, the bedding clean and mended, the window patched up. It was still clearly _her_ room. She would know if Zuzu tried to change it. But it was less... chaotic. 

She glanced in the vanity mirror, seeing the relaxed hairstyle the servants had pulled her hair into. Without her usual face framing parts, she looked disgustingly like her mother. Dressed in pink, she looked nothing like herself. 

She sneered. 

“Azula,” Zuko said from behind her. She refused to jump. “The Water Tribe ships leave in the morning. I have some ideas of what to do with those who won’t be leaving with them, if you would like to help.” An offer, open, no strings. So simple and easy. Zuzu had always been easy to manipulate. 

She didn’t want to. 

“I’d much rather sleep in,” she dismissed, stretching. “But I’ll look over your plans, brother.” Zuko wasn’t an idiot, and she wasn’t going to break a fragile truce after looking at those figures. Figures Father had never let her near. She hadn’t had long to consider those, not while she had been... lost. And Zuko had seen her at her worst, had seen through the cracks and the mask, down to her core. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but he was _still here_. It was more than their mother had ever done. 

She turned to check he had left. The door had made no noise, not even a soft thump, and from the swing of the curtain, it was more than likely he had left via the window when she closed her eyes in a fake yawn. Silent, and deadly. Taught by the Wangdue and the Tribes of the Foggy Swamp and the Sun Warriors of Azuma, even if he wouldn’t say it directly out loud. _Father was a fool, to let him go,_ she thought derisively, stripping off formal robes herself, not willing to allow servants to touch her again today. 

_Father was never Fire Lord_. A revelation she hadn’t known. Information she should have found, could have used to get her own way. Ozai had taught her to be cunning, taught her to use any weakness against someone, all the while teetering on the edge of the Court’s patience. She understood now, why he had been so _angry_ when she brought Zuko home but had restrained himself from acting on it. Visibly, that is. 

The scar of a handprint still existed on her side, right under her breast wraps. They sicked Azula to look at, sickened her more because she didn’t want Zuko to _see_. Her brother had spent three years at sea, he would assume- 

Well, he wouldn’t be _entirely_ wrong. 

Shivering, she tore her vision away from the mirror, and dressed, the bed robe fresh. She flung herself under the covers and told herself she wouldn’t leave. She didn’t need Zuko, hadn’t needed him for years. But... Well. 

Ursa told her she was a monster. Azula didn’t feel things the way others did, didn’t really know what to do with her emotions because she hadn’t been trained to have them. Whatever wisps entered her head, were quickly snuffed out. Ursa had seen and was disgusted. Ozai had seen and had praised her. Zuko had seen... and had _stayed_. Until he had informed her, sorrowfully, that he had to leave for Azuma, that he knew it would be hard for her, but she could come with them- 

Azula had shot lightening at his head. Zuko had taken the hint. But unlike Ursa, he had come _back_. 

Decided, Azula sat up. She would never fall asleep now, not with the reminder in the mirror. Not with those same wisps, kept alive by Zuko, swirling around her head. She didn’t like emotion, didn’t _want_ to feel close to him... but it was nice. And safe, in a way life under Father had never been. And Zuko had proven how deadly he could be, these last few months, but never to her. No matter how she attacked him, the servants, the guards, _herself_ , Zuko was _still there_. And if she wanted to keep this safe little harbour, this good day- 

She couldn’t stay here. 

Mind made up, Azula flung the door open. The guard was different to the one earlier in the day, the one Zuko called Hiroto. She didn’t know this one’s name, but he was another familiar face. She got the impression few wished to guard her. Curious, that these had stayed with her, where even Mai and Ty Lee never did. 

Mai and Ty Lee, who had left her. Who had tried to remove her from power when the paranoia grew too much, but it was justified because everyone was out to get her- Azula cut off that line of thinking, taking a deep breath and thinking of Zuko. Stupid, foolish Zuzu who had fought through the depths of war and emerged scarred but whole the other side, who had somehow become her anchor. She opened her eyes, the world a little more settled around her, set a deadly stare on the guard as she breezed past, and walked with a confidence she didn’t feel down the corridor. 

Every pillar could hide an enemy. Each darkened corridor held guards and servants who remembered her short reign or had handled her after. Every person she came into contact with thought her crazy, unstable, a monster that Zuko should have had consigned to an asylum. To show them anything less than the perfect, powerful Lightening Princess was unacceptable. Even if she didn’t feel it. 

The guards outside Zuzu’s door didn’t hesitate to allow her entry. 

_Interesting,_ she thought. If this had been several weeks ago, she might have taken advantage of that in a completely different way. Zuko was inside, half undressed and sleeping robe in hand, Airi lounging on the bed, Kaito stretched out on the floor. From the bundles of blankets there, most from the bed, Azula would guess that was where Zuko had been sleeping too. 

“Azula?” Zuko’s voice was gentle, soft. “It’s barely been an hour.” It wasn’t reproachful, or even judgemental. A simple observation. Azula of the past would have rolled her eyes and left, dismissing childish thoughts. Azula of the past wouldn’t have come at all. 

“You sounded pathetic, grovelling to Iroh like that,” she said glibly. “Are you even using the bed?” Zuko flushed. 

“It’s too soft.” 

“Hm.” She glanced at the blankets and pillows remaining on the bed. Not enough for a Princess, but Azula had lived on military cots and ship beds for weeks. She could do without a few pillows. “Move over.” Airi gave that irritating smirk, an echo of her mother’s ( _of_ _her’s_ ). 

“Sure.” She shimmied over, looking smug about something. Kaito flicked ice at her. 

“Stop looking so smug, it creeps everyone out,” he stated lazily. Divorced from his grandmother, he was somehow _more_ irritating. “And you aren’t going anywhere.” Zuko had been glancing subtly at the doors and windows. 

_Hm, so there was a reason for the cot in his office,_ Azula thought. She _thought_ that Ozai had never had one there, but the way her memory was at the moment, she couldn’t be _sure_. She didn’t like not being sure. Interesting, that the Yu Yan archer was guarding the windows, bow laid to one side and sharpening arrowheads almost threateningly. 

“Oh, Zuzu,” she purred, making herself comfortable. “Don’t tell me you’re deliberately making yourself weak for the sake of the Avatar?” Zuko shot her an irritable glare. 

“You-” He cut himself off, knowing he was defeated in this and hating every minuet of it. “I hate all of you.” He tipped bonelessly into the pile of blankets on the floor, like a _heathen_. Azula sent him an unimpressed look. 

Kaito snickered. 

“I have the night watch,” Yumi said calmly from the corner, as if Zuzu’s dramatics were normal, “And most of you have an early morning. Sleep.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Ordinarily, Azula would have seethed at being handled. 

Lying in bed, a body breathing next to hers that she could imagine was Ty Lee’s once comforting presence before fists flew and chi stopped flowing, Zuko’s bright and true flame nearby, it was surprisingly easy to fall asleep. And sleep without nightmares, for once. 

She was woken, some hours later, by Zuko’s cries. Eyes flying open, flame and lightening at her fingertips, looking for the intruders- 

Warm hands closed on hers and Zuko gently kissed her forehead. 

“Nightmare,” he whispered. “Do you want some tea?” She almost slapped him. Wrenching her hands out of his, ignoring the ache for their warmth back, she glared at him. 

“I was sleeping,” she sniffed. 

“Me too,” Kaito grunted from the floor. “Love to go back to it.” He was lucky he was Zuko’s friend. He still squealed loud enough to wake half the Palace when she zapped him. Zuko gave Kaito a smirk as he rubbed his behind, frowning at her. 

“Your Majesty?” A quiet inquiry from the door, a guard and servant peeking into the room. Zuko waved them away. 

“We don’t need anything, thank you,” he said, with the formality of a peasant. She refrained from saying so in the hearing of those who would make it a problem. The servant bowed and withdrew. The guard stayed a moment longer before giving his own bows. 

“You know, I’m glad Airi doesn’t know that,” Kaito grumbled as Zuko slunk back to his blankets. 

“I can hear you,” said the voice from Azula’s other side. Airi didn’t bother opening her eyes. “And we still have three hours until we need to be up. And Zuko needs all the sleep he can get, while we’re sitting on him.” 

“No one’s- Get off!” Kaito had rolled over, effectively pinning Zuko down. The little ingrate was grinning as he did it too. Amused, Azula watched her brother flop like a fish, not really trying to get the other boy off of him. _Was this how others played?_ She wondered absently. _To_ _actually play_ _, rather than train, train and train._ Sure, Ty Lee’s games weren’t always training, but Father would accept nothing less than perfection. “Kaito!” Zuko groaned, giving up. Twice, she had seen him step down now. 

“You see, we make sure Zuko doesn’t kill himself,” Airi said, hazel glinting in the dim light of the Moon. “It was what Azulon trained us to do, when not watching their backs.” It was the least cryptic answer she had ever gotten from the girl, including that time she offered for Azula to join her on her family’s newly acquired pleasure barge- Azula narrowed her eyes. 

“You tried to recruit me,” she hissed. _No one_ tried to lie to her. Not to her face, anyway, and certainly not for something that would require _this_ level of trust. 

“Technically,” Airi stated, closing her eyes again as if Azula wasn’t a threat, “the Commander of my troop ordered that, should anything happen to him, I look out for his sister. I offered aid. You refused to take it, and there was nothing more I could do without risking my head. At least, not until now.” Azula mulled that over, allowing the lull of conversation to flow over her. 

They weren’t recruiting her, but they had let her into their little group. And, playful as they might be now, it was impossible to forget how deadly they were. The Dai Li hadn’t stood a chance, between flying ice, chi-blocking and fire tinged with green, gold and purple. What rock had been torn up, was batted away by ferocious winds and sharp, deadly shurikens. Little blood had been spilled, and she had been unharmed, but trussed up. Ostensibly for her own safety. _A warning,_ she thought, eyeing Airi with fresh eyes. _They could have done this years ago, and the Court would have stepped aside. Father had reached their limits, Zuko was back in the capital and mere months_ _off of_ _seventeen. Only_ _Sozin’s_ _Comet and the timing stayed their hand this long. And once Father started burning food..._ She almost laughed. The Avatar had spared Ozai’s life, but if they sent him back here, he wouldn’t be breathing for much longer. 

“Do try not to scream next time, Zuzu,” Azula stated, settling back into the soft confines of the bed. “Some of us need our beauty sleep.” It had been the most restful sleep she had had in _weeks_. 

And if she shifted a little closer to her cousin, no one would notice. Or care. 

She woke, alone but well-rested, after the break of day. Unusual and unheard of for her, but useful. It meant no one was looking if she shuffled through what remained. Sleeping clothes, hair ribbons, the usual detritus of a hasty exit without servants. And a note beside a plate of food. 

_Azula_ , it read in Zuko’s hasty scribble. _We left for the docks. Will be back, four hours after sunrise. The servants have instructions to provide you with whatever you need. I’ll see you in the Council meeting._ Sweet, that he thought she needed reminding of where he would be. 

After eating her fill, she left the Fire Lord’s rooms. Or, well, a Prince’s rooms since Zuko hadn’t moved after Lu Ten’s death, not even when he returned home from exile, the sentimental fool. But a symbol that seemed to work on the cricket mice of the Fire Nation servants. Hiroto was back at her door, seemingly unsurprised to find her outside. 

“Good Morning, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing and opening the door for her. The bed had been made and her robes tidied away. This time, she avoided the looking glass. “Would you like me to call the servants?” 

“Yes,” she said, inspecting her nails. “And tell them I need robes fit for Court dress.” Hiroto nodded and closed the door again. For some reason, she got the sense he was smiling. It irked her. 

The servants wasted no time, scrubbing her clean, dressing her in formal robes which were strangely lighter than she remembered Court dresses to be, and brushing her hair until it flowed like silk down her back. _You have such beautiful hair_ her mother’s insidious voice had whispered as she sliced through dark strands. The hairdresser tutted when she thought Azula couldn’t hear, clucking over styles to hide the jagged edges. 

“Where did these come from?” Azula asked the room at large, fingering the delicate silk of her skirts. She did not often wear them, but officers always underestimated delicacy. 

“Lady Airi donated them, after you burnt your clothes, Your Majesty,” the hairdresser stated blithely. Far too belligerant for just a _normal_ servant. She was on her feet in moments, hands aflame. The woman gazed at her blandly as the others jumped back, frightened as they ought to be. “Put those away, Your Majesty,” she said, tone bored. “I have been doing your and your brother’s hair since you were born, and your mother’s before that. And before her, Fire Lady Ilah’s. I am proficient in hairbrushes not blades.” Azula sneered. Scissors were not as good as knives and daggers, but they were still sharp enough to cut through skin and muscle, if pressed hard enough. Cornered, she started to call for lightening- 

Stopped, when the woman bowed and left. Removing the threat from the room. Or, called, Azula noted as Hiroto bowed and closed the door again. Annoyed at herself she sat back down again, to be pampered. And held in the twitches until they left, allowing her breath to gush out for a moment in panic, to think of who potentially _close_ that had been. 

Tiny feelers brushed her cheek, a familiar little trill as the dragon rubbed himself against her face and neck. Tickling the little warmth, she didn’t need to turn to know Zuko had returned. 

“Four hours past sunrise you said,” she noted lightly. “It has only been three.” A rustle of fabric suggested Zuko had shrugged. 

“Chief Hakoda wished to leave as soon as possible, to prevent further incident,” Zuko said blandly. “Airi’s working on some of the backed-up paperwork and kicked me out of the office.” Her brother was _pouting_ about not being allowed to work. She remembered weeks of absence, always wondering if this was the moment he had given up on her. 

And was suddenly grateful that he had friends that hadn’t abandoned him. Not like Ty Lee and Mai had done her. 

“Good. We’re visiting Uncle.” The man had been crushed last night. He wouldn’t have left, not after the olive branch Zuko had offered in a moment of weakness. At least he hadn’t been stupid about it. The Dragon of the West had always been intended as an adviser it would seem. Time for him to start earning that, no matter how many of the Generals wanted him in charge over her brother. 

“We are?” Zuko followed in her wake, Druk perched on her shoulder. He fell into step beside her. She eyed the shortened version of the Fire Lord’s traditional robes. Modified, to move quickly, the dual dao strapped to his back, along with, surprisingly, a broadsword and the dagger that she had jealously wanted all those years ago. “My my, Zuzu. One would think we were still at war.” 

“A good swordsman carries a single sword. Either a braggart or great swordsman carries two. Three, and you are dealing with someone serious,” Zuko stated blankly. “I was trained for the Katana, Dao, Wakizashi, Tsurugi, Ninjato and Yoroi-Doshi. Kaito prefers a katana or that in combination with a shoto. Airi, at the Naginata, Sai and Yawara. Yumi has her namesake and shuriken.” He shrugged. “Use of any weaponry was an essential for Grandfather.” Azula eyed her brother with fresh eyes. 

_Truly, a fool,_ she thought of her father. Once upon a time, she would have sneered at a bender of any Nation, let alone a _firebender_ , learning steel. But the list Zuko had just named... _Trained for battle indeed_. 

Iroh was rather startled when they entered, only a single steaming cup set before him. A servant hastily set another two down, having hurried ahead of them. Well, such loyalty from the cricket-mice had some benefits it would seem. 

“Uncle,” Zuko greeted, loyal as always. Iroh offered him a warm smile, dimming a little as it reached Azula. She offered him a sugar sweet smile, settling next to her brother, dragon still draped casually around her shoulders. She held the cup up for him to taste first, despite the disapproving glance from Zuko. 

“Druk’s not supposed to drink tea,” he commented. Azula raised an eyebrow and he blew out a huff. Iroh watched them both carefully. 

“Niece, nephew, it is so wonderful to see you both well.” Azula doubted he enjoyed her company, especially after her little display prior to dinner with Shen. And what an enlightening dinner it had been. 

“I’m glad you stayed,” Zuko said quietly. “We can’t stay long, though.” 

“Ah, the work of the Fire Lord,” Iroh agreed, nodding sagely. “I am happy to sit with Azula for a while if needed, Zuko.” Azula narrowed her eyes, irritated. Zuko spoke before she could. 

“Azula doesn’t need watching,” he said firmly, eyes matching in their squint. “And she is quite capable of speaking for herself.” 

“Oh, I hardly think our _dear Uncle_ is all that concerned for me,” Azula noted. Druk added his own little glare, for all the use it would do. At the size of a cat-owl there was hardly much damage he could do. 

“Yes, well, Uncle just needs the occasional reminder he _has_ a niece to care for,” Zuko said, taking a prim sip of tea. Silently, Azula revelled in the improvement of Zuko’s political acumen. Subtle as a brick, but effective in the effect it had on Iroh, who turned a feigned smile on her. Genial Iroh may seem to the Avatar, but everyone in this room knew of the untold horrors he had unleashed on the world. Just because neither of them had been old enough to see it on a battlefield, Azula had _seen_ the reports from the retaking of Ba Sing Se. And Zuko had too, considering he was the one to have slipped them over to her. 

“I am glad, to see you better, Azula,” Iroh said, addressing her properly for the first time... ever, truly. Forced to by Zuko, perhaps to _see_ her for the first time. 

“Are you?” She kept the sweet tone of voice. Airi had used it so often, perhaps taking out the undertone of threat would have an effect here? Ozai had taight her that power was strength and to show weakness was to allow oneself to be used. Zuko had gained Iroh’s loyalty by doing the opposite. Time to put Mother’s latent acting ability to good use (and never mind that she had learnt from Zuko in the first place). “You never really seemed to be.” A touch of hurt, a dash of lowered eyes, not meeting his gaze... Iroh bowed to the glare from two pairs of golden eyes. 

Silently, Azula smirked. 

“I have always cared for you, Azula,” Iroh said quietly, gently, as if talking to a spooked ostrich-horse. “But I see now, I should have shown it better. I feared... you were so like your father...” Iroh realised the trap he had walked into, even before Zuko stiffened. Crowing silent victory, Azula hid behind her hair. _Show weakness indeed... as if I would show it to anyone other than Zuko. He’s the only one in the world who would never think to use it against me... and perhaps his troop._ A thought for later. 

“Uncle,” Zuko said tightly. “Perhaps it would be easier, to talk of other things for now.” Druk slid from her shoulders to his, quiet little hisses emitting from his lips. His tail brushed her cheek as he left and she felt a little sad at the loss of heat. Not that he was _her_ dragon. But the insipid creature was... comforting. 

“Yes,” Iroh agreed quickly, “yes, indeed. How did the departure go this morning?” He was eyeing Zuko’s weapons now with a disapproving eye. Zuko met him with a firm gaze. 

“Inuksuk almost stayed. We agreed that he would send weekly reports, to update us on the progress made in the Southern Water Tribes, and if they would require further basic aid. Toph also stayed in the Palace- apparently she doesn’t do boats. She has agreed to act as a go-between for the Avatar in dealing with us.” No doubt, the Earth Kingdom, and perhaps even the Northern Water Tribe, were terrified to learn that the child thought stealing Agni’s Gift was a kinder fate than death. What if he decided to take their’s? What if he decided to return for their people, once Air Clans, but now citizens of the Fire Nation? 

Of the Avatar’s foolish gang, the earthbender was a sensible option. Even if she did hear too much. 

“A sensible choice,” Iroh said, nodding approvingly. “But did you have to appear-” 

“Yes,” Zuko said shortly. “The Avatar already knew about the dao. The Chief’s son studied under Master Piandao for a time. They needed to know exactly _who_ they were dealing with now.” A pause, and then, “and so did you.” A hand found Azula’s under the table. In surprise, she took it, feeling Zuko shaking through her fingers. 

The idea of being cold, of spending days staring up at Agni and never feeling his warm rays inside, almost made her shake too. She squeezed, hard enough to hurt but not to break. 

“Our hour is almost up, brother,” Azula sniffed, as if they were not gripping each other tightly. All that was left, of Ozai and Ursa’s legacy. And Azulon’s too, in a way. Zuko nodded. 

“I’m sorry, Uncle. We have to go now.” He bowed to him, shallow as only respect of the Fire Lord to the General who hosted them. Azula bowed no lower than he. 

“Do you need-” 

“No.” Zuko was gone before Iroh could protest further. For a moment, Uncle and niece stared at each other. The Dragon of the West bared his teeth. 

“I will not allow you to corrupt him,” Iroh said firmly. Azula gave him a gentle smile, knowing in this moment she appeared the picture of her mother. 

“You are far too late for that, Your Tea Loving Kookiness.” _And you were too late three years ago too. Your own father corrupted him far worse than I ever could._ But having the Dragon of the West believe that _she_ was the danger at Court... 

Exhilarated for the first time in weeks, Azula breezed her way out of the room, amused. Toying with the Dragon of the West would be fun. 


	6. Toph

Toph _really_ hadn’t wanted to leave her friends. But, hearing the way Inuksuk spoke to Zuko, quiet and frantic and sneaking furtive glances towards where she could sense Katara fussing over Aang, she had come to a decision. Aang wanted peace, he really wanted this whole thing to work, but he couldn’t stay in the Fire Nation. Sokka might stumble his way through, but his grasp of politics, true politics, was shaky at best and Katara might murder someone. Uncle was staying for Zuko, or ostensibly to carefully steer his nephew in the right direction, which made Toph want to bash her head against something. Hakoda might have been useful, but he was a Chief and needed back home as a buffer between the surviving waterbenders and his own daughter (a task Toph did _not_ envy him. As much as she liked Katara, that threat to Azula had been heavily hypocritical. And after what they had seen of what Hama did, Toph really didn’t like the way she had defended her. Then again, Katara had never seen the corpses in the mountain.) 

Which meant, she had had to take a stand. 

“I think I’m gonna stay until a metal boat can take me home,” she said, shooting a wary glance at where _wooden_ boats were theoretically moored. Aang went quiet and sad, Katara stiffened in betrayed anger and Sokka... nodded. Grasping what she _really_ meant. 

“We’ll send a message,” Sokka said. “When we reach home.” Because they were going home, not back to the Earth Kingdom. Kuei had finally been tracked down and they did not want to get involved in that mess. Neither did Toph, if she were honest. All the more reason to stay. _Air, fire and water. All that’s missing is earth._ She wondered if Zuko had thought of it- his cousin certainly had, if the smug vibrations emanating from her were right. 

“Sure, I’ll have Sparky read it to me,” she said brightly. And seriously- if she had learnt anything about Zuko, it was that he was relatively straightforward. Blunt as a rock, steadfast in his beliefs, and silently deadly and no longer hiding that fact. Sokka had gulped loudly when he arrived wearing not one, but _three_ blades on his person. That were _visible_. It made Toph cackle internally. 

Sokka must have made a face, because he made a sound like an owl-cat being stepped on. She grinned. 

“Oh come on, at least he won’t paraphrase it,” she said, punching his arm. Sokka grumbled under his breath but didn’t say anything more. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright here alone?” Aang asked, genuinely concerned. She wondered if he had been blinded by the knowledge that not only were there airbenders in the Fire Nation, but that they had fled his precious Temples. Toph gave him a punch too. 

“Sure. And you’d better keep practising Twinkletoes. I want a spar with you when we catch up again.” Aang swept in to give her a hug before fluttering away. Katara’s own goodbye was brief. 

“Keep an eye on Iroh,” she murmured, pulling Toph into a hug of her own, cold as ice. Toph refused to shiver. “I don’t trust what Zuko will do to him.” _I’m more concerned what Iroh might do to Zuko_ , Toph almost said. She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded instead. Uncle was great for warm hugs and sage advice, but he also had a bad habit of assuming he was _right_. And last night’s dinner had just proven how wrong that assumption was. 

“Sure,” she said instead, patting Katara’s arm. “So long as you make sure Twinkletoes _actually_ practices, even if it is only with water and fire.” Hakoda had informed her that there was no earth under the South Pole. Nothing but solid ice. 

Silently, it was another reason she was staying. If Hakoda could return any time within the next few months, _maybe_ she would consider returning with them to the Earth Kingdom. Or Kyoshi Island. Or whatever the nearest speck of land was, close to their home. But she wouldn’t offend them by saying out loud that their home _terrified_ her. _A place I really would be blind, and unable to do anything about it._

She would take the Fire Nation over that any day. 

She couldn’t feel the ships leaving, could only hear as people waved, the absence of friends on the dock. She suddenly felt very alone, all of a sudden. A hand took hold of her wrist, warm, calloused and comforting. She blinked, not bothering to look up. Instead, she slid her hand up to take hold. 

“Your sister is really lucky,” Toph said absently. Zuko twitched in surprise. “I wish I had a sibling like you, back home. Someone who would _see_ me, not the poor little helpless blind girl the spirits dumped on them.” Zuko squeezed her hand back. 

“Azula was born lucky,” he quipped. “But... she’s lonely. Even if she won’t admit it.” Toph nodded. She had felt that last night, the way Azula gravitated towards Zuko as if through some kind of gravitational pull. The abject stutter in her heart at the mere _thought_ that someone might take Zuko from her, the way she shifted when Katara threatened him, ready to attack, to defend, to _fight_... From what she had overheard from the Palace servants and felt through her feet, Azula’s sanity was hanging on a thread. Healing, slowly, but severely dependant on the only person left who might care for her. 

The Palace had a distinct lack of bubbly chi-blocker and sour knife-thrower. 

“Where are the others?” she asked as they made their slow progression back up to the Palace. Zuko had eschewed a palanquin for a carriage pulled by ostrich-horses. Yumi had disappeared to presumably sit on top of the thing. Kaito was sitting up front with the driver. Airi sat within the carriage with them, a soft scrape of whetstone over blade denoting that she was taking the time away from prying eyes to hone her kunai. She had waited until they were out of sight and hearing of most others to ask the questions. 

“I don’t know,” Zuko said stiffly. “When we returned to Caldera... Azula was crumbling, and the servants said they had tried to remove her from power, to help her. By the time we arrived, they had fled whatever justice she ordered for them.” He still had hold of her hand, which Toph was gripping a lot harder than she wanted to. Even knowing that she was close to the ground, that she was well protected and Zuko would likely not let anything happen to her, politics be damned, she _hated_ being blind. 

“And she hasn’t said anything?” Airi gave a soft cough. 

“From what I have observed, I think she feels betrayed. Considering she was still suffering the aftereffects of chi-blocking when we arrived, she might even be justified.” Toph winced. Unlike Katara, she had never been blocked by Ty Lee before, but Katara had said it unsettled your chi for _days_. That, if you were unused to the feeling and without someone who knew healing, even your bending was affected for a while. And from what else she had heard from the servants, the guards, anyone willing to talk to her after that meeting in his office, _crumbling_ was an understatement for what Azula had done during Sozin’s Comet. _Came undone_ might have been better. _Gone off her rocker, lost it completely, paranoid to the point of insensibility._ But Toph wasn’t insensitive enough to say that to Zuko’s face. 

There was a short argument once they reached the Palace. Stood once again on the earth, Toph revelled in the feeling of being able to sense others again, dragon perched on her shoulders while his foster parent argued with Airi. 

“I have an _hour_ before the Council Meeting!” Zuko was half-shouting. Airi shoved him towards the Palace, Kaito sniggering behind his hand. Toph resisted the urge to join in as well. _Nice to know that there are actual people trying to get him to sit down for five_ _minuets_ _,_ she thought. Druk gave her cheek one last nuzzle, alien trust brushing against her mind (which was weird, but she had better manners than to say that out loud), before leaping back to Zuko’s shoulder and burrowing into his clothes. The little dragon, she had found, loved heat and firebenders were basically walking heat packs. 

“You’ve already been through the notes four times,” Airi stated firmly. “The farming quotas are not going to change, we are still waiting on the next troop movement reports and Iroh is safely tucked away in his rooms. There is nothing pressing requiring your immediate attention. Shoo.” She even waved him on his way. 

Sulking, Zuko slunk into the Palace, boots making no sound despite practically stomping. Once he was out of sight, Toph allowed herself a snicker. 

“You guys really care about him, huh?” she said, elbowing the waterbender at her side. Kaito shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You spend most of your life training with a guy, kind of hard not to.” A breeze brushed past her cheeks, Yumi’s feet hitting the ground softly. 

“My troop was glad to have a rest guarding the office over his bedroom,” she noted. “Zuko has always had a bad habit of pushing himself past his limits.” Somehow, Toph wasn’t surprised. 

“So,” Toph said, nudging Kaito again. “Foggy Swamp?” Kaito _beamed_. 

“Oh, Grandmother is going to _love_ you.” Somehow, Toph found herself pulled along by a chatty waterbender, Yumi and Airi slinking away. Through her seismic sense, she could feel that Zuko had met up with the fluttery, half-panicked form of his sister, Uncle sat in his rooms drinking tea. And in the garden she was led to, by a cold blank space her mind always supplied as _pond_ , was the cantankerous leader of the Foggy Swamp Tribes. 

“Kaito, it is rude to drag young girls along by their collars,” Kannika stated pointedly. Toph slid earth aside to yank herself free, dumping the idiot in the pond. From the yelp and quacks, she had disturbed the turtleducks. _Oops, sorry fluffballs._ “And that is where you end up, when you do so.” The old woman sounded very satisfied. 

Toph decided she liked this woman, especially after the incredible _tongue-_ _lashing_ she had given Chief Hakoda, Sokka and Katara for stealing waterbenders from their Swamp and placing them on the front line. When all they had to do was _wait_ , the Fire Lord was of age and back in the Fire Nation again. A few more days... and then the eclipse had happened and Ozai had taken the time to crush his opponants at Court and they had had to go to ground _again_. Sokka had been cringing even after the meal, muttering about how, by Tui and La, was _he_ supposed to know about Fire Nation politics. 

Toph didn’t point out that the Foggy Swamp did. And they were mostly in the Earth Kingdom. Look long enough through his scrolls, and Long Feng had probably known too. 

“Don’t _side_ with her!” Kaito squealed, splashing in the pond. Kannika shifted smugly. 

“I shall side with who I like, Grandson,” she sniffed. “You ought to know this.” Kaito grumbled under his breath, stomping his dripping way back onto solid ground as Toph plopped down next to the old lady. He drew water from himself in a fluid movement unlike Katara’s. More sinuous, like Druk slithering across a table. “Now, little Lady. What brings you here, other than my uncouth raven-wolf of a grandson?” Toph smirked. 

“Curiosity and politics,” she said, picking mud from under her toenails. She liked dirt, but having it dig into the sift pads _under_ her nails was uncomfortable. Unlike many others, Kannika wasn’t disgusted by this motion. 

“Ah, politics. The bane of all our existence.” 

“Not mine!” Kaito protested, flopping to the floor somehow, despite being in full armour with a sword strapped across his back. Toph wondered how he didn’t stab himself on hidden blades. _Practice_ , her mind helpfully pointed out. “I’m just hired muscle.” 

“Well, we didn’t select you for your brains,” Kannika agreed. “And Azulon did like a pretty face.” Kaito squawked and Toph sniggered. 

“Do I _look_ like Airi to you?” 

“No,” Kannika teased. “But, there was always a possibility. Interesting news, you can pick up in brothels and ale houses. Officers will tell pretty faces _anything_ in the throes of passion.” Toph wrinkled her nose. 

“Ew,” she said. Emphatically. A gnarled hand patted her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry. The girl was never asked to serve such a task. Azulon would have waited until she was of age, in any case, and Ozai had no knowledge of the training to begin with. Nor any interest in his wife’s kin. Fool.” She sounded all too amused. “One would think that he would take notice that Chinatsu and Ursa were the daughters of a shaman of _Azuma_.” 

“The dragon place?” Toph hazarded a guess. Iroh had only taken Aang, after all. The rest of them had been stuck in the Western Air Temple, trying to get the Duke to stop falling down holes that led to open air. Kannika nodded. 

“Precisely.” She snorted, shaking her head. “And I thought once upon a time that Iroh had better brains than Ozai.” 

“In fairness to him,” Toph said slowly, “he genuinely didn’t know.” Kannika must have blinked form the startled way her posture changed. 

“You can sense this?” She sounded intrigued. Even Kaito perked up from the ground. 

“Heartbeats,” Toph said, fingers tapping the rhythm of her own heart on the ground. “People’s usually stutter when they lie. Or change tempo. Or skip a couple beats.” Kannika hummed. 

“A pity, you were hidden from prying eyes. We were missing earth to keep some of our flightier fighters grounded.” Kaito preened at the description. Toph flicked a pebble his way. 

Annoyingly, he ducked. 

“So, Iroh was never told of his father’s plans for his own son,” Kannika mused, swilling something in a cup. Toph wanted to say _tea_ , but it smelled more earthy than Iroh’s brews. “Interesting. And telling. The man can strategize across a battlefield, but pit him against family? I think I, too, would have thought twice. And after he returned, _changed_...” Toph swallowed. 

She had heard the tales of Lu Ten’s death. From Earth Rumbles, particularly the Boulder, who had once been a soldier on the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se right when the Fire Nation broke through. And who returned home after one young Dai Li had swooped in and struck a rock spike through the young Prince’s death... 

“His son died,” she whispered, remembering a small alter that Iroh knelt before every evening, head bowed, a candle burning throughout the night. Sokka had asked about the painting of a young man and Iroh had only told them his name. Toph had pulled him aside and told him the rest in a furious whisper. “Anyone would have been crushed.” 

“And for that, I can forgive him,” Kannika sighed. “My own children are long gone, else why would Kaito be left with me?” Toph hadn’t thought of that. She didn’t ask, even if the boy in question had gone suspiciously quiet. “But I did not go on some foolish Spirit Quest in an attempt to bring them back. I will meet them again, when I too walk into the spirit world to meet them. And Iroh knew enough of his brother, he ought to have known to return, and quickly. If he had, there would have been a different Regent in place.” 

Toph wasn’t sure what she could say to that. 

“Everyone mourns differently,” Piped up a voice from above them. Toph jumped, startled. She couldn’t _feel_ them... 

“Akiko,” Kannika said sternly, head tilted _up_... A breeze brushed her face, ruffling her hair. “It is rude to sneak up on earthbenders by walking the wind.” Light feet touched the ground, bouncy like Ty Lee. 

“Sorry, but I couldn’t _wait_ for the Monk to leave,” the girl said breathlessly. “Mother has news for the Fire Lord, but I was told he was with the Dragon of the West.” Toph tilted her head. 

“You’re Dorje,” she said. She wasn’t fluttery like Aang, or razor-sharp like Yumi. She felt like _Ty Lee_ who Zuko had said was of the Air Clan Dorje. The girl bounced round her, twirling like a dancer. 

“Oh, he told him, did he? And the Monk didn’t come to subdue us like Sangye?” She practically _bounced_ in happiness. “He kept his word!” She didn’t do a cartwheel, instead seeming to leave the world a moment, more wind blowing in Toph’s face. She frowned. _Airbenders,_ she thought grumpily, _no consideration for people who can’t see them up_ _there._ Maybe it was ingrained into them. 

Yumi had never tried hiding from her. Hm, food for thought. 

“It’s Zuko, kinda hard to imagine when he doesn’t,” Toph grumbled, fingers clenched in mud. Kaito had taken something from the airbender, suddenly serious. 

“Well, I suppose that is true,” Akiko mused, hitting the ground again, thoughtful, unlike Aang was half the time. “But he hasn’t had much time to help. And Ozai tried to chain Ty Lee to his daughter, and he _was_ Zuko’s father.” She chattered a mile a minuet. “We had to be _sure_.” 

“What, Grandmother and I weren’t proof enough?” Kaito asked, an edge in his voice. “Go blow back to your breeze, Akiko. Yumi’s sleeping right now- she was on night watch last night- but I’m sure Hiroto is watching the roofs if you need someone to natter to.” Kannika muttered something that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary regarding airbenders and their parents. Toph’s appreciation of the woman went up a notch. 

Wind swept through the garden and Akiko disappeared from her senses. Kaito had stiffened, the sound of paper crumpling suggesting her had just wadded the paper up into a ball. Or was gripping it too hard. 

“What happened?” Toph asked, concerned. 

“Nothing too disastrous in this moment. But Earth King Kuei, presumably with the backing of his Generals, is proposing returning Ozai as a political prisoner for the life of General Iroh.” Toph winced. She could see why he _really_ didn’t want to pass on that news. 

“More like that’s what the Generals want,” she said reluctantly. If they wanted this to work, then they were going to need an Ambassador right this moment. “Kuei didn’t even know about the war three months ago. I doubt he even knows who General Iroh _is_.” Kaito hummed, foot jiggling on the ground, face turned up towards the sky. 

“Zuko will be in the Council Meeting now. If Akiko has this news, it means that it most likely came from their spies in the Earth King’s court. Which means no one else knows this. Yet.” He was thinking quickly. Toph bit her lip. 

“We’re gonna need Azula on this one, aren’t we?” Toph didn’t trust the Lightening Princess. Didn’t really want to work with her. But she had apparently been cunning enough to survive Ozai while Zuko was away and unable to protect her. And her keen intellect was tied together with a dissociation from emotions which may be the only thing to get them out of this mess by objectivity. 

“Unless you think Kuei is going to go against his Generals, yeah,” Kaito said. He, too, sounded unhappy about it. “Which means Airi is going to be _pissed_.” Toph cocked her head. 

“Their cousin. Why?” Kaito seemed mildly amused, but it was Kannika who answered. 

“Zuko was trained for stealth and battle, Kaito for manipulation, Yumi for assassination and Airi for politics,” Kannika said converstaionally. Her fingers twirled in the same way Katara’s did when she was playing with water, five seconds away from attacking. Toph tensed, fingers and toes ready to suck her to safety underground. “It must be galling to be outshined by someone who isn’t even trying.” Kaito rolled his eyes, hard. 

“More like, Airi isn’t cold enough to _actually_ bully Zuko into doing something he doesn’t want to do. Else she’d have made sure that Iroh never stayed in the first place.” Kaito ought not to have sounded so grim. “However, we’re going to need that now. Because right now, the safest place for Iroh is right here in the palace.” 

It sounded as if he were grinding his teeth at the mere thought. 


	7. Sokka

Sokka tried to ignore his seething sister behind him as they approached Shu Jing, the cart that they had hired from a local farmer bouncing along the road. Katara had wanted to go straight home, but Sokka wanted to call in to Piandao, as thanks for his help during the Comet, as well as answers for a few questions he had from their brief overnight stay within the Palace. Sure, they could have used Appa, but Sokka wanted to be inconspicuous- no need for word to get back to Zuko that they hadn’t made a completely straight route back home. And the Southern Water Tribe could survive a few extra days without them.

Thankfully, Dad had been on board when he proposed the idea, only insisting that they take Bato with them. Inuksuk took any excuse to be away from his sister, but one of his companions, a woman called Nuliajuk, did. Sokka didn’t know what to think of her- unlike Hama, she didn’t hide her viciousness. 

“So, this is where the famous Swordsman Piandao settled,” she commented, tossing a ball of water between her hands. She was dressed in blue, despite their protests. Sokka had _wanted_ to go dressed in Fire Nation reds and browns, but since Nuliajuk refused to do so, they were all in their natural blues, except Aang, who had dressed in the orange robes the Fire Nation servants had provided. He didn’t want to think how they had acquired them.

“Yeah,” Sokka murmured, eyeing her warily. She gave him a toothy smile.

“No need to panic. I won’t spear him,” she said. Her grey hair was twisted into a braid not unlike how Katara had used to wear hers. His sister had left most of her hair down, discomfited by the woman. “I’m just here to keep an eye on our little wayward snow child.” Sokka winced. _Yeah, and kill her if she even looks like she might be imitating Hama._ That had not been a pleasant conversation.

He wasn’t sure if Katara would ever forgive Dad for threatening to banish her from their village for real.

“I’m not the threat here,” Katara growled. She had a tight grip on her waterskin. Tucked between Aang and Bato, as far from Nuliajuk as possible, Sokka had the feeling she desperately wanted to be as far from the woman as possible. Truthfully, so did he. It was hard, staring at the threat of death to his sister everyday. And he had no doubts that she would actually follow through with it- unlike them, she _had_ witnessed Hama’s descent into madness, and probably lost herself for a while too in whatever backlash was given towards them for her actions. 

_Insurance_ Inuksuk had called Nuliajuk. _Like Hama, she too has been touched by the deep. Unlike Hama, she knows how to pull herself out of its call._ He shivered, even in daylight, tearing his gaze away from the woman.

“You guys can walk the rest of the way?” the farmer asked. Sokka couldn’t scramble off the cart fast enough, handing over the promised coins, plus a couple extra. The man had been wary enough taking them- after listening and watching the elder waterbender, even Sokka’s nerves were shot.

“Thanks,” he said to the farmer. The man nodded, tugging his komodo-rhino towards town. They had been lucky- he had just finished sending off a shipment of grain and had been returning home himself. A mention that he had studied under Pinadao had given them an in, enough so the man agreed to take them this far. It was only a couple miles on foot to Piandao’s mansion.

“Never thought I’d be going on a tour of a Fire Nation retreat,” Bato murmured, glancing around. Sokka shrugged.

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “We just stopped here last time by accident.” As most of their adventures had been. “I just hope we haven’t beaten him home.”

“Considering how long it took everyone to track each other down?” Bato said, eyebrow raised. Sokka winced.

“We didn’t _mean_ to leave you guys in prison-” he started. Bato rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I was teasing,” he said gently. “It wasn’t your fault, that the invasion went so wrong. And with the state the world was in? I’m surprised you made such good time back, especially if Kuei has only just returned to Ba Sing Se.” Sokka gave a shaky smile, trying to hide how guilty he felt. He had wanted to rescue Dad and Bato and everyone from prison, but Iroh kept catching him leaving. Apparently, he had practice with teenagers sneaking out.

Initially, he had thought he was just referring to Lu Ten and girls. Now, he realised how wrong he was.

“What do you make of the new Fire Lord?” he asked instead as they trudged up the road. He didn’t really want to talk to Nuliajuk, and Aang was trying to cheer Katara up from their detour. So he made small talk with Bato instead, despite feeling as if he were drowning in guilt. Bato hummed, fingers tapping against his arms.

“I think he’s young and working himself into the ground to fix what his family broke,” he said after a while. “I think that your father wanted to drag him back South with us, so your Grandmother could sit on him in an attempt to get him to sleep.” Sokka blinked.

“Didn’t really seem that way,” he said, definitely not squeaking.

“I don’t think Hakoda has figured that part out either,” Bato said with a wink. He sobered a few moments later. “What concerns me is how he has ingratiated himself with these waterbenders. Your father and I discussed this several times over, but just because he treated them better than his father or Grandfather, does not mean that he was _kind_. No matter what Inuksuk may say to the contrary.” Sokka glanced back.

Nuliajuk gave another disconcerting smile with too many teeth.

“Somehow, I’ll take him over her any day,” he muttered. Bato followed his gaze. Nuliajuk gave a sarcastic wave from the back. Katara glanced behind her and flinched.

It was a relief to finally reach Piandao’s castle. It was mere moments after knocking that Fat came to answer the door. Sokka offered him a sheepish smile.

“Um, we were just looking to see if Master Piandao had returned?” Sokka asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Fat raised an eyebrow.

“Master Piandao’s presence has been requested by the Fire Lord,” Fat said. Sokka’s stomach dropped out. “However, he will not be leaving until the morning. He shall be glad to catch up with a student.”

Sokka’s breath left him in a relieved rush.

Piandao was sat on the veranda overlooking his garden. The bushes had been carefully pruned back into shape since their final bout, the dirt swept back into respectability. Tea steamed from a teapot on the table, beside two letters. He offered them a warm smile, rising to offer them a bow of greeting. Sokka offered one back, pupil to teacher, as he had been taught.

“It is good to see you again Sokka,” he said genially. His gaze swept over their small group, barely stopping on Bato and Nuliajuk. “I see you are returning home.” Sokka blinked.

“How…?”

“I trained the Fire Lord and his personal guard in the art of the sword,” Piandao said, sitting and taking a prim sip of tea. “He was rather candid in his letter that you may call in to visit.” He touched the letter on the left. Sokka winced. _Yeah, there would have been enough time to send a Messenger Hawk with how slow the boats are due to the wind._ There hadn’t been much of it to fill their sails, and Dad had been firm about the potential hazards of bent air and upended boats.

“Right,” Sokka said, cringing. “Was that, um, all he mentioned?” Piandao’s face was pinched.

“In that letter.” He glanced down at the second letter. _Something is wrong,_ Sokka thought, swallowing. He accepted a cup of tea from Fat, taking a bracing sip. _Matcha. He only drinks Matcha when he needs to think._ This did not bode well.

Bato made a face at the bright green drink he was handed. Aang perked up.

“Matcha? I haven’t had this in… _ages_!” he exclaimed, taking a long inhale. “We used to drink this all the time at the Temple!” Sokka tried to hide his wince at that.

“Mmm,” Piandao hummed. His hand moved to the second letter. “See what you make of this.” It wasn’t a request. Sokka took the letter with barely concealed shaking hands.

 _To the esteemed Swordsmaster, Piandao of Shu Jing,_ it began in an overly formal hand. _Fire Lord Zuko requests your presence at the Palace within the Caldera, in accordance with your obligations as stipulated by Fire Lord Azulon, now passed. Your expertise with the association known as the White Lotus shall be required in regards to General Iroh._

_Second to this, we must inform you of tense negotiations with the Earth Kingdom. While we have yet to receive word from the Earth King himself, Generals How and Fong are threatening to send a fleet to invade our lands. By order of Fire Lord Zuko, you are to ready Shu Jing to defend itself in preparation for this unfortunate event, should such threats become true. This must be conducted prior to your travels to the Caldera._

_Age of entry to the army has been raised to 21 and any returning veterans are to be consulted prior to returning to duty. Home Guard are to be drafted in defending the port…_

It ended with a flowery end, noting Zuko as Fire Lord and written by a Lady Airi, acting Secretary and Scribe to the Fire Lord. Sokka remembered the girl who had led them into that courtyard all those days ago and shivered.

“Fong’s threatening war?” He tried his best not to squeak. Bato dropped his teacup.

“Fong? General Fong?” His voice sounded strangled. “The man who tried to bury Katara alive to trigger the Avatar State and throws civilians into traps to ensure battlefields are clear for his men?” Aang went very pale.

“Er, yeah, that Fong.” _Shit, I didn’t know about the civilians,_ Sokka thought, feeling sick. _Oh, it was such a mistake ever going to meet with him._ Never mind the damage he had done to Katara and Aang- if the man was willing to trample his own people into the ground, he did _not_ want to see what he would do once in Fire Nation territory. 

“I am more concerned that they wish for my expertise on the White Lotus,” Piandao said. “A war we can handle. We have been doing so for a hundred years, and Zuko’s changes have redistributed food around the nation enough so that no one will starve in the short term right now. With the age of entry raised and conscription scrapped, we may even have enough hands around to harvest the fields and bring in a decent harvest this year, that rationing might preserve our people in the mid term.” Sokka blinked, and reread the letter again.

It was buried in there, right at the start, before the metaphorical screaming at the threat of war. He changed his mind about the important part of the letter.

“It’s not asking for expertise on the White Lotus. Just for Iroh.” It felt as if he had swallowed rocks. “They want you as a buffer.” Was it his imagination, or did Piandao flinch?

“But why? Surely Zuko has him under enough restrictions?” Aang asked. Sokka winced openly that time, as did Bato. Nuliajuk growled under her breath.

“General Iroh is a threat to the Fire Lord just being within the Palace. If they are not sending him here, or to a retreat within the Fire Nation, there will be a damn good reason he is being kept at the Palace.” Instead of drinking her tea, she had bent it into little slivers of green ice. She was kneading these between her fingers, looking as if she might start grinding her teeth in frustration. 

“With General Fong involved, I can imagine why,” Piandao said darkly. Iced matcha cracked, splitting into smaller slivers. Sokka swallowed.

He should have considered it. Iroh had never made a secret of his time as part of the Fire Nation army, had explained why he had been _personally invited_ by Zhao as part of his Siege of the Northern Water Tribe. Toph had even griped to General Sung about how the Dragon of the West had broken the walls of Ba Sing Se. Long Feng had had documents within his office detailing the offensive and one rather gruesome report on his own personal involvement in the death of a particular Sergeant. Sokka had hidden that one from the others, swallowing bile. He should have known that, without Kuei’s presence, the Council of Five would have demanded the life of the only person known to have laid their entire city to siege and came so close to succeeding.

Next they would be demanding Azula’s head. Sokka _really_ didn’t want to see what Zuko would do, if pushed that far. After all, how long would it be until someone started screaming for Zuko’s death, the Fire Nation Army’s death, the wiping out of the entire Fire Nation? 

Suddenly, Sokka had a very dark understanding of the circles under Zuko’s eyes.

“Aang,” he started, numb, attempting to put his thoughts in order. “We need to get to Kuei. As soon as possible.” He swallowed, eyes darting between Bato and Nuliajuk and Piandao. Bato gave him a solemn nod. “Master Piandao, if I write a letter, will you ensure it reaches Zuko?” He ought to send it with a hawk, it would get there sooner, but if the Fire Nation was preparing itself for an attack within their shores, for war to break out once again, teetering on a knife’s edge, he couldn’t be sure a servant or aide wouldn’t just drop it into a convenient bin. 

Piandao nodded.

“I will place it in his hands myself,” he proised. Aang, pale, had bounced to his feet. 

“I’ll call for Appa. Katara?” His sister jumped at the chance to leave. Which was good, because she was going to _hate_ what Sokka was about to say next.

“Nuliajuk,” he started, hiding shaking hands under the table, “How opposed would you be to seeing the Earth Kingdom?” The woman gave him a considering look.

“I would have thought you would want me as far away from your sister as possible,” she commented, almost _too_ calmly. Sokka took a deep breath.

“I want you away from Katara. But I want Fong further away from her after the last time we saw him.” He had had nightmares for _weeks_ after Fong buried his sister. It didn’t matter that he claimed she was fine, he hadn’t had to hold her for days afterwards, hide her tears from Aang who felt guilty enough about the whole incident. At least he knew from Inuksuk and the fact that the Fire Nation palace was still standing, that Nuliajuk had enough control over herself to not start the war herself.

And he really wanted a buffer between Fong and Aang.

In the end, he wrote three letters. One which would go with Piandao for Zuko, the other two with Bato. One for his Father, explaining where they had gone, and another for Inuksuk as to why he had essentially stolen his friend. He didn’t think the older man would care- unlike Nuliajuk, Sokka hadn’t even seen the man bend despite knowing he could do so- but he had noticed that the three rescued waterbenders stuck incredibly close to each other. So he thought that some forewarning would be nice. By the time he was finished, ink staining his fingers and cheek, Aang and Katara had returned with Appa.

He bowed to Piandao, hoping that he wasn’t about to make a big mistake. The swordsmaster took his extended arm when they both raised from their bows. “Good luck, Sokka,” Piandao said, gentle as he had ever been. “I trust you to do what is right.” Sokka nodded.

“Thanks,” he managed, leaving the squeak out this time. “Good luck to you too. Don’t let the Fire Lord bully you into anything.” Piandao’s lips twitched.

“I promise to leave the bullying to his squad mates,” he said, amused. Sokka blinked, unsure what that meant. Unsure if he _wanted_ to know.

Leaving was excruciating. He wanted to explain to his Dad in person, he wanted to have a second opinion, he wanted to be able to leave the looming waterbender behind. He wanted Bato to be able to come with them, or maybe take Piandao as well. But he couldn’t do any of those things and once again, he was the one responsible for everyone. Nuliajuk couldn’t be in charge, else she might murder someone, Katara was on edge with the woman around and Aang was… Aang. He loved the kid, but he wasn’t the best with _responsibility_. He would be chasing a butterfly any moment he could.

As Shu Jing shrank below them, he hoped they were making the right decision.


	8. Zuko

Zuko wanted to fry the idiot in front of him. The messenger had been sent from Ba Sing Se, trembling under the weight of the glare he was giving him, insisting that the exchange of prisoners would somehow help them _both_. Considering what he had heard about the Earth King during his own stay within the Earth Kingdom capital, he could just _smell_ Fong’s influence on this.

He wondered when the call for Azula’s head would come next.

His sister sat calmly beside him, a place of honour, the other occupied by Airi. Both women had disturbingly similar detached expressions, clearly unimpressed by the message. The man shuddered in front of him, sweating from the heat of the fire. Green eyes flicked between the three of them, swallowing convulsively.

“P-Please, Fire Lord Zuko,” the man tried again. “You must see that this is the only way to keep peace.” Zuko raised an eyebrow.

“The _only_ way?” he hissed, steam escaping his lips. Druk curled tighter around his shoulders, hissing his own little wisps of smoke. “Explain to me again, _how_ , exactly, this is the _only_ way to keep the peace? Because it seems to me that the Earth Kingdom is attempting to reopen hostilities.” A bead of sweat made its way down the man’s face.

“The Fire Nation has instigated hostilities by refusing reasonable requests for reparations,” the man squeaked. “Our people are starving-”

“The people of the Earth Kingdom were starving long before we took over,” Azula sniffed, studying her nails. The servants had trimmed them short before repainting them red. “My brother can attest to this, having actually travelled through many of them as a refugee.” Zuko almost gave into the temptation to grin. For a moment, it was as if Azula were _herself_ again.

“Are you implying we are incapable of looking after our own people?” the messenger asked, angry now. Zuko almost rolled his eyes.

“Your King had no idea he was at war until four months ago. He has been missing for the past three. I passed through villages of starving people miles from the front lines and strategic military placements before entering Ba Sing Se five months ago. Villages guarded by thieves and scumbags masquerading as soldiers. Tell me, where was the responsibility then?” The messenger bristled. Zuko cut him off with a look. “You may not be aware, but the entire world is currently stuck within a state of famine. I am the Fire Lord, and must look to my people first before considering those of other Nations. I am sorry that your King is unable to feed his people, but I have made clear in several missives to him, the Council of Five _and_ the new Grand Secretariat of Be Sing Se that the stipulations are all we can afford. So please, tell me your reasonable demands again.”

Wisely, the man shut up.

Airi lifted a scroll from her lap, scanning through the contents. The demands made by the Council of Five, signed off by the Earth King. Zuko wondered if the man had read through it properly.

“Why does the Council of Five believe that Fire Lord Zuko would be amenable to signing his Uncle’s death warrant?” she asked sweetly. “An Uncle, may we remind you, who followed him into exile after being burned and banished by the very man you mean to return to us.” The messenger’s eyes snapped to Airi in some shock.

He swallowed, fingers twitching.

“It was thought that the Fire Lord would wish to have a public execution for his predecessor,” the messenger said, losing confidence with each word. “A sign of strength to consolidate his rule.”

Zuko was _not_ going to be sick.

“How very cruel of you,” Azula commented. Her eyes had narrowed in the man’s direction, fingers sparking. “Zuzu, I do believe the Council of Five thinks we are one in the same.” Druk nuzzled his cheek. No doubt, he had gone white in light of _that_ declaration. 

“The Council of Five can keep Ozai,” he ground out. “He is a traitor to the Fire Nation. Death awaits him wherever he goes.” It grated, so much and he wished it didn’t. He wished that he didn’t value one life over another’s, but the thought of allowing _Uncle_ into their clutches… Sure, he had made mistakes, but he was the only one still there for Zuko. Perhaps even for Azula now (although that might just be wishful thinking on his part). And considering what _else_ had been in the report from Akiko, reporting from Hira’a…

Uncle was staying. When he had time, he might take a trip there in person. But right now, they were safer with their anonymity. And he didn’t think he could take rejection from their other parent.

“You would throw away your own Father?” The messenger sounded scandalised. Azula scoffed.

“Oh please. You just said you expect us to execute Ozai. Now you condemn us for telling you to bloody your hands yourself. You can’t have it both ways. Either dirty your hands, or keep your mouth shut.” Druk trilled in agreement. Zuko brushed a hand down his small head, hoping his hands weren’t shaking as he did so. 

Airi raised an expectant eyebrow at the messenger. The man’s fingers played with his sleeves.

“Well…” he started, at a loss. Airi gave an expressive sigh.

“It would seem the Earth Kingdom cannot make up their minds, dear cousin,” she said in Azula’s direction. The messenger winced. “Perhaps they wish to say we are careless with our citizens if we don’t take Ozai and ruthless if we do. Clean hands all around.” The messenger winced.

“Of course not,” he said. He was sweating more than ever. Clearly, this had been their plan all along. “We are just… surprised, that you wouldn’t even consider our reasonable requests…”

“I believe Fire Lord Zuko has explained why these requests are not reasonable,” Airi said sweetly. “Perhaps you would be amenable to walk the streets with us later, to tell the starving orphans we bring alms to why the food will be stopping soon.” The messenger gaped at her, open-mouthed. Airi didn’t allow him to interrupt. “Furthermore, some of these other demands are… interesting. It is rather common knowledge that Admiral Zhao was lost during the Siege of the North. _All_ Generals and Admirals to be charged with war crimes… Tell me, do you have evidence for every Fire Nation General and Admiral to level such charges?” She raised an expectant eyebrow. “Not to mention the threat of restarting the war if these so-called _reasonable_ requests are not met.” Azula rolled her eyes.

“Sounds as if they wis to cripple us, then attack while we have only low, inexperienced men in place in order to wipe us out,” she sniffed. Zuko stayed silent as Airi hummed.

“Yes, and this monetary amount… Is the Earth Kingdom truly so destitute of funds, that some cannot be siphoned away from funding your own lifestyle to aid your people that the Fire Nation must do it for you?” Airi tapped her fingers on her cheek, expectant.

Truly, his sister and cousin were a terrifying duo.

“Surely, for a Nation as _affluent_ as yours…” the messenger started. Zuko narrowed his own eyes.

“Exactly how affluent do you believe we are, to be able to afford a sum of 6 billion gold pieces?” he asked. The treasury didn’t even have a _hundredth_ of that number, and Zuko was already juggling tax income vs expenditure with the loss of state income from the war. Unfortunately, the war had been profitable for the Nation- factory production, industrial strength and mercenary labour for under the table deals had made Ozai a lot of money. Not as much as Azulon- his Grandfather had been a frugal spendor, unwilling to sink money into projects unless there was a greater certainty it would be successful, or he could take advantage of any failure within it. 

The messenger’s eyes were wide, sweat stains no longer hidden upon his robes. Robes, which were almost as fine as their own. For a _messenger_. Distribution of wealth within the Earth Kingdom was clearly skewed far more than in the Fire Nation. The towns and villages that Zuko had visited briefly with his squad before returning to Caldera during the Comet, had orphans and homelessness of their own, but they had nothing on Lee’s family. Which was exactly _why_ he had been part of insisting on redistributing food himself to their poorer citizens, attempting to set up a stipend for veterans unable to work. Attempting to help his people as much as possible.

It would never be enough. He would fail and fail and fail again. Even Azula had tried to argue against just _giving_ away money. In the Fire Nation, everyone worked for what they had and if they were poor and living on the streets that was because they were lazy. Obviously. 

It saddened him that he had had to live through such poverty to realise how _wrong_ that worldview was. There were people out there on the street who had been born into it, who had never known a life without struggle and starvation constantly dogging their heels. Compared to that, his brief stint begging had seemed pathetic.

“I believe this meeting is over,” Zuko hissed, unable to put up with this nonsense further. “Get out.” The messenger scuttled away, not even bothering to bow to the Fire Lord. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to scream.

Druk curled protectively around his shoulders as he stood, stretching. He needed to move, to clear his head, despite having another meeting in a few minuets.

“The Council of Five were bold, sending such a pathetic ingrate to deal with us,” Azula stated as Zuko paced, sounding irritated herself. “It is clear they want war, sending such blatantly unreasonable requests.”

“Monetary, food and personnel reparations are hardly uncommon demands,” Airi pointed out. “And they seem to know that we have worked our way around sending large amounts to the Water Tribes. And I imagine they know nothing of the Air Clans.”

“The Earth Kingdom would tremble at the thought of free Air Clans adrift of the Temples,” Azula said, a little smirk appearing on her face. Her makeup was not quite so thick today, the bags around her eyes not so pronounced. “Perhaps we ought to use that.”

“Perhaps, but it is not for us to decide,” Airi cautioned. “Use them too early and we lose the advantage-”

“Stop!” Zuko shouted. Both girls jumped, giving him near identical stares. Zuko swallowed, unable to stop pacing. “Just, stop, one moment.” He tried to take in a deep breath. Druk, agitated much like Zuko, leapt into the air to circle his head. “We can’t openly use the Air Clans without their permission. The Dorje aren’t going to leave our shores, the Jinpa wander far and wide so they won’t want to fight on shores their brethren might be, and the others are _peaceful_ . The Clans which held spirituality and enlightenment above fighting, but without wishing to be bogged down by the doctrines of the Temples.” He sighed. “The Rabten might, but we _need_ Piandao.”

“I sent the missive,” Airi said, almost defensively. “It takes time to travel from one end of our Nation to the other.” Zuko winced, knowing that to be true.

“Zuko,” Azula said, her voice astoundingly soft and gentle. So unlike her. “So long as we do not start the violence, it is on the _Earth Kingdom_ to start the war again. It would appear we are not the only ones who have been profiting from the past one hundred years.” Which, yes was true, but… 

“People like Fong will find a reason,” he growled. “You read those terms. You saw what they wanted to do to our people! And they are claiming that _we’re_ the ones being unreasonable!”

“There’s nothing you can do about idiots, Dum-Dum,” Azula stated. “If they want a way to justify it to their King, that isn’t your problem. What is, is defending the Fire Nation from hostile attack.” 

There was a soft knock at the door to the Throne Room and Sergeant Dachen’s head appeared around a crack in the door. Zuko paused to stare at him.

“Your Majesty,” the man said, dipping his head in respect, “Master Piandao has arrived in Caldera. Captain Yumi went to greet him.” Zuko blinked, feeling lighter than he had in _days_. Piandao was here. Piandao, who knew and had trained them and hadn’t judged them for what they would eventually have been asked to do. Piandao, who had fought in the White Lotus at Grandfather’s command.

“Send him in the moment he arrives,” Zuko ordered, relieved beyond belief. _Finally, some actual help_. He hadn’t been able to go near the man before he took the throne. Father would have feared a plot, a coup coming sooner than he realised, most likely from Airi or Piandao. Not Zuko. Never Zuko. He didn’t think that Zuko even _knew_ who the rightful Fire Lord was. 

Which had only been half right.

“Why did you call the swordmaster here, Zuzu?” Azula asked. The tone was dismissive, as if she though it a waste of time. All the clues he needed to know she was brimming with curiosity. Druk had settled in her lap, allowing her to scratch under his chin and the fluff there. One day, it would be an impressive beard. Now, it was still just fluffy baby hairs. 

“Other than being a highly ranked Rabten lord?” Zuko asked. “He trained me, Kaito and Lu Ten. He had specific orders from Grandfather to discover what was occurring within the White Lotus, at the time a small unknown, barely worth more attention. And he continued within that role even after Grandfather died.” 

Azula raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Airi smirked.

Silently, Zuko returned to his throne on the dais, underneath Sozin’s canopy. History said it was only supposed to be temporary, that Sozin dreamed of rebuilding the throne room an image grander than even the one before, that Roku had torn through during their first altercation. In the end, war funds had killed that dream in its inception, leading to the more modest, but intimidating, canopy and dais of fire instead.

Azula was practically burning with curiosity now, but Zuko had neither the time nor the energy to answer her questions now. Now, he had to concentrate on his next meeting with Qin before meeting with Piandao. He took a deep breath in and nodded to Captain Daw who opened the doors. Sergeant Dachen was gone, instead the tall, thin figure of Ozai’s War Minister instead.

Zuko hadn’t been able to get rid of the man yet. At every turn, he made himself useful, proposing improvements to their machinery and use of the newly developed war balloons used by Ozai as a new way of travel. He had ingratiated himself within the new regime by ensuring that he was invaluable. Azula had asked what the problem was when dealing with him. He had been loyal to Ozai, now he was loyal to Zuko because he was the better candidate, the stronger Fire Lord. It would be inefficient _not_ to use him.

Silently, Zuko could still see him in that War Room, smirking along with Riku. The echo of the words _fresh meat_ still ringing in his ears.

Qin prostrated himself before the throne, as proper as any visitor before him ought to be. It made Zuko feel sick to his stomach, but he refrained from saying so.

“Minister Qin,” Zuko stated dryly. “You insisted upon meeting with me.” The man glanced up, gaze flickering to Azula. He was smirking, just a little. The fool.

“I did. With the most distressing and recent news of the renewed threats against our homeland, I came to petition the Fire Lord for permission to engage the foundries in creating new weapons. The Earth Kingdom are now aware of our War Balloons and have the Mechanist, meaning we are at a disadvantage once again in the realm of technology.” Zuko gave him a flat look.

“It has only been two months since the end of the war. People are starving and you wish for me to give you more money for a war effort that may not even happen?” he asked sceptically. The gall of the man. Qin’s gaze returned to Azula, who gave him a cool look of her own.

“Your Fire Lord asked you a question,” she prompted, when Qin didn’t answer. A slight downturn of his lips showed that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“Your Majesty, surely you can see that the Earth Kingdom will be unwilling to cooperate?” Qin stated. “They sent a messenger demanding ludicrous reparations that you were right to turn down. And now they threaten war just for us telling them so. We cannot appear _weak_ -” He paused when flames flared from the as yet unlit dais. Zuko usually opted to not light them, but they always glowed at the embers, so close to fire it was easy to call them to life. He took a deep breath, letting the flames die as he breathed out, standing.

“You wish for us to not appear weak,” Zuko stated, drawing the wakizashi from his hip. He had opted for daisho pairings today, as well as his trusty dao. The katana was on his left hip, the wakizashi on his right, the dao across his back. He had worn his ninjato to the docks, knowing that Sokka would see the weapons and understand what they were. Today, he had to go more obvious for the idiots and now he was glad. It might be uncomfortable, rising and sitting, having to position himself so the blades were not only accessible but still upon his person without having to untie them from his belt. He had trained to do so for _years_ before Grandfather died, it wasn’t anything new.

Qin gulped at the sight of the blade.

“Fire Lord Zuko-” the man started. Zuko’s arm snapped out, the blade poised at the man’s throat.

“Does this seem weak to you, Minister Qin?” Zuko asked coolly. “Tell me, how close do you think I can get to your jugular without actually cutting through it?” Qin didn’t shake. If he did, he would have killed himself. For all that Zuko hated killing, hated this side of his job, his hand didn’t falter, his arm didn’t shake, his heart didn’t pound. He was cold and empty and void of feeling. A weapon molded for use.

“A testament to your strength, Your Majesty,” Qin managed. He even kept the tremble from his voice.

“I have considered the proposals you sent. If I had thought them necessary, I would have called for you, a relic of the past. Of Ozai’s cabinet.” Zuko paused for emphasis, narrowing his eyes at the man. He knew it was made all the scarier by the scar Ozai had meant to eternally shame his son. “The Fire Nation will not be instigating this war, will not give the Earth Kingdom the excuse it so desperately wants to attack us. And that includes creating new machines to kill people with, do I make myself clear?”

“As crystal,” Qin said dryly. Zuko removed the blade and the man dropped to the floor, a full prostration before his ruler. “I have underestimated you,” he said to the floor. “I shall not forget, Your Majesty, the lesson you have taught me today.” For a brief moment, blue flames leapt to life.

“See that you don’t, Minister Qin,” Azula stated coldly from the dais. She looked furious. “Or I shall drive home the message myself.”

The man showed himself out.

Zuko was grateful when Natcha appeared, a tea tray in hand. She was head of the household staff personal to the Royal Family. Her duties were often meant to only cover overseeing the servants responsible for their daily care, balance the books on their wages etc. rather than coming to serve the Fire Lord his tea personally. She had done so for many a meeting. Azula didn’t like her, found her knowledge of their family disturbing, her affability baffling. A servant who wasn’t afraid was a servant who was plotting something, surely. Zuko did all he could to assure her that no, Natcha had been around when they were children attending to Mother personally, but she couldn’t be reasoned with.

At least he had managed to convince her Natcha wasn’t poisoning the tea.

“You look tired, Your Majesty,” Natcha said, placing the cups with certainty, pouring a calming Oolong. It still surprised Zuko sometimes, the knowledge he had retained from his very brief career as a tea server himself. “I brought something to help.”

“Thank you, Natcha,” he said quietly. She had even brought an extra cup for Master Piandao who was due to arrive any minuet. She bowed out quickly, in deference to Azula’s wariness of her. After the incident in her rooms, Natcha hadn’t gone back to visit her, or do her hair as she had when Azula was a child. Unfortunately, his sister didn’t care to notice the servants and so still did not recognise her.

_Progress,_ he reminded himself, picking up a cup. _She’s making progress. Be grateful for how far she has come._ And it was true: watching her now, with Airi and wrestling with Druk over tea sweets, she was very different from the cracked, broken facade he had returned to. She wasn’t the little girl he had left behind either. No, she was becoming something new, better, brighter. Someone of her own creation, not molded that way by Ozai, even if she wouldn’t admit it. And Airi had taken a shine to her as well, sneaking her extra snacks during especially long meetings, or sharing little notes as she had with Zuko and gigging over them when no one would notice. Things any normal teenager would be doing.

It warmed his heart to see her healing.

Which was why he couldn’t mention Hira’a to her yet. He needed her focused on the here and now, not the past hurts of yesterday. He needed to focus _himself_ too, but after weeks of the same answer, that no one knew where she went or whether she was still alive… Akiko’s report felt like it was burning a whole in his inner robe, tucked into a secret pocket. But he had talked it over with his squad, long into the night, and pondered it after they had fallen asleep, and all agreed this was for the best. Azula was only just recovering. It would set her back if she thought she had been replaced.

He was glad when Dachen returned to tell them that Piandao was here, along with General Iroh. He hadn’t known Uncle had left to greet his friend, but he should have. Was he getting sloppy? Airi, too, had made a face. Azula painted hers into a blank mask right before the two men entered, Toph and Kaito trailing in with their welcoming party.

Natcha hadn’t brought a cup for Uncle.

“Master Piandao,” Zuko greeted the man formally, stepping down from the dais. Piandao knelt, traditional for the Air Clans to the Fire Lord sheltering them but not the full protestation required by native citizens of the Fire Nation. “It is good to see you again.” Piandao glanced up, a soft smile on his face.

“And you, Fire Lord Zuko.” He rose swiftly, eyes scanning Zuko from head to toe, then the room. His eyebrows scrunched together a moment before his face cleared. “Your Uncle has told me much of the developments during my travels.” An open invitation as any.

“We have tea,” Zuko said, almost shyly. “Oolong. I’d be happy to fill you in.” Because Uncle wouldn’t know everything, he had made sure of that. Uncle just thought that there were some problems still needing ironing out with the messenger because his poor stubborn nephew wasn’t budging. Uncle only had what information Zuko was drop feeding him through Toph because he had ordered it so.

This information he had would break Uncle’s heart.

Piandao listened, quiet and non judgemental as always. Uncle’s face crumpled visibly behind his mask hearing the terms the Earth Kingdom had proposed. Even Toph hissed through her teeth at the sum mentioned by the messenger. Neither Kaito nor Yumi appeared surprised, but then considering the Council of Five’s demands for food alone had been outrageous enough. He could only hope that Akiko’s family could slip the private message to the Earth King and that it would have an effect on the inept ruler. 

Airi had to continue when he reached the part concerning Ozai and Iroh. He couldn’t talk about that part to his face. Toph slid her hand into his left, Azula holding his right wrist. Druk had curled up around his shoulders again, crooning softly. His cousin was sharp and concise and efficient and it still tore him up to hear it again, even broken down so clinically as to why it was the _right_ thing to do.

There was a moment of silence once the tale was finished.

“A wise move, to ensure it is clear who is instigating the violence,” Piandao said at last. “No one in their right mind would have agreed to the terms.”

“But what about negotiating them down?” Iroh asked. “As a peace offering so they cannot claim you are merely rejecting this out of hand?” Zuko resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

“I have made it clear to them several times, why I cannot give more than I already am, to you _and_ the Council of Five. What more can I give, other than your head Uncle, to appease them?” He hadn’t meant to be quite so blunt, but the impact of the words must have sunk in as Iroh went pale. Azula preened smugly a little in her seat next to him.

“Then there is nothing more you can do, without actively calling to war yourself,” Piandao assured him. “The one who is unwilling to bend here is not you, and you should not have to beg for respect from those who will never respect you back.” Zuko nodded.

“I know, I… I just wish there was another way.” Piandao offered a small smile, pulling a scroll from his sleeve.

“And in that, I may have the answer. I trust you are familiar with an old student of mine, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe?” Zuko stared at the paper, wondering if this was too good to be true.

_To Fire Lord Zuko, or whatever other fancy titles you might have given yourself_ , it started in an incredibly messy hand. Amused, relieved, wary and a whole host of other things, Zuko read through the letter quickly, relaxing more as he did so.

For the first time since the message from the Council of Five arrived, Zuko dared let himself hope that they could end this before any blood could be spilled.

**Author's Note:**

> Up next: Zuko POV and the leaving of the Water Tribes.


End file.
